Varedha
by Sandra Evans
Summary: In a world where the Fire Nation rules supreme, where allies are really foes and trust is obsolete, where family is a liability and war is known as peace, how will a fragile, fledgling love survive? Sequel to Eclipse.
1. Prologue

A long time ago…long before my birth, or that of my father's, the land belonged to the gods. Then, the water flowed without restraint, the fire burned only in the hearths of those who were cold and were in need of warmth. The air was a playful thing- a breeze that would toy with your hair and carry the laughter of a child; the earth was warm and full of life… or so a very wise man once told me. 

In those days, there lived a nightingale who could sing more beautifully than any other creature in the world. Every night, the few people that were blessed enough to hear his song wept with joy at the sheer beauty of his voice. But even though the bird had such a lovely voice, he was very ugly and had led his life in solitude. 

One night, as the nightingale was searching for a place to land, a glimmer of porcelain white caught his eye. Intrigued, the nightingale flew down to the object, for to him it appeared to be the very reflection of the moon. He landed in the thorns, but he was mindless of the damage that they could do to him, so caught up was he in the beauty of the object. 

And then, the nightingale began to sing. Upon hearing the song, the white thing fluttered, and the nightingale flew over to it. Close enough now, the nightingale peeked down through the branches and the thorns and was rewarded by the sight of a flawless white rose. 

The nightingale was struck by her beauty, and so every night, he would sing of his love to her. The rose's petals would tremble with longing, but she refused to open up to him. "The gods have forbidden our love!" She would cry, for they had. Still, the nightingale would continue to sing. 

Every night he would return to her, and would sing to her from sunset to sunrise. Every song he sang was more beautiful that the last, and every night, the rose's petals would tremble violently with her love for the nightingale. Yet still, she refused to open for him, for she knew that were her petals to bloom, she would soon die. 

One night, after many weeks of the nightingale's tireless singing, the moon shone bright and full down on the little rosebud. When the nightingale began to sing, her petals trembled so violently with their urge to open that the nightingale feared she would burst. The nightingale hastened to fly down to her; to wrap his wings around her as if to protect her from herself. In his rush to do so, however, one of her thorns became embedded in his chest and pierced his heart. 

"You have bled for me!" the rose cried, and her love for him was even greater than it was before. In fact, it became so great that the rose bloomed for him, no longer caring that she would die. 

The next morning, the nightingale took his final breath and fell to the ground beside his beloved rose. The rose wilted and withered, as she knew she would, but she no longer cared. Her petals fell to the ground beside the nightingale that she had loved, despite his ugliness and the life he had led before her. 

A single seed, however, landed amongst their remains, and a tiny green stalk began to grow. For from the forbidden, perfect love of the nightingale and the white rose, the most beautiful creature in the world had been birthed. From the love that they shared, the blood red rose that the gods had never intended to know was born. 

You may wonder why I tell you this tale, for what the legend of the red rose, the Varedha, have anything to do with you?

Much more than you now understand, my dear. Much more…


	2. Chapter 1

For those of you who have not yet read Eclipse, this story will probably make little to no sense to you. I would suggest that you visit my profile and read the first book in the series before you begin this one. Thanks, and happy reading!

* * *

"_Want to go penguin sledding?"_

Katara sat still and unblinking when the memory came to her. She supposed that she should have felt something, anything, at the words that had been spoken a lifetime before. The remembrance of hope and childhood should have tugged at her heartstrings and brought tears to her eyes. But it didn't; she was numb. 

The healer within her would explain it as the shock of all that she suffered, but Katara knew better. It was not shock at all. She had felt too much; had experienced too much for her body to feel anything more. If emotion were to take hold of her again, she would surely die from the pain of it all. 

Her spine was stiff as she sat against the stone wall of the prison cell, her chin lifted high in the air. She would not allow them to know that they had broken her. When they would look into the filthy cell that she had been thrown in days before, they would see a young woman of pride and spirit. They would misinterpret the blankness of her face to be determination rather than brokenness; would see her silence as a mark of pride rather than a soul without hope. 

The door scraped open, but Katara didn't even bother to turn at the sound. Her gaze remained blank, and stayed focused on a large crack in the wall directly in front of her. They hadn't moved from the spot for the past three days. 

"Your dinner, your highness," came the gruff voice of her guard, followed by the sound of metal upon stone. Katara said nothing, and ignored the man's presence. 

"You got to eat something," the guard said, his tone impatient. Again, Katara didn't acknowledge him.

"Arrogant little bitch," the guard muttered under his breath, kicking the tray so that the bowl of gruel tipped over and messed her robes. Katara didn't even flinch. 

"You think you're better than all of us, don't you?" The guard chuckled cruelly. "Well you're not. Your pathetic nation was annihilated; your war effort was a miserable failure!" The man let out a harsh sigh. "I have no idea why the prince is working his ass off to save a piece of trash like you."

"_How…how did you get this?" Katara asked softly, reaching up to gently press her fingertips against the pink, rippled flesh of the boy's scar. Zuko stiffened and backed away from her light touch. _

"_It was given to me as a lesson," he replied with a soft sigh, unable to meet her gaze. "To teach me to be strong and to demonstrate honor," he finished bitterly, his gaze locked straight ahead of him as a muscle in his jaw clenched. _

_Katara compassionately gripped the boy's hand. "Zuko, an act of violence doesn't make you the man you are today," she informed him, big, trusting blue eyes staring earnestly into his. "You're honorable because that's your character; because there's a strength and honesty about you that I never though anyone from the Fire Nation could possibly have."_

Katara blinked once, but that was the only indication that the memory had even come to haunt her. Honorable, she'd said. Honest. If she could have brought herself to care, she would have laughed at the irony of it all. She had put all of her faith in him, and he had destroyed everything that she had believed in. 

"Probably because you're his whore," the guard continued, his tone both cruel and mocking. "Although I don't see what sort of passion could be found in a shapeless, misbegotten tramp like you." 

A week ago, Katara would have jumped to her feet and uttered a scathing retort. Now, she couldn't bring herself to respond to such a derogatory statement. The guard had intended for the words to hurt her, she knew, but her heart had become near impenetrable since that time. The comment didn't sting nearly as much as it should have. 

The guard humphed when he saw that despite his jibes, her eyes remained focused directly ahead of her. Apparently realizing that his mocking would do no good, he kicked the tray once more before exiting the cell. 

Even after the door had swung shut and she was left in solitude once more, Katara couldn't bring herself to move. Instead, she merely continued to stare at the crack in the wall. 

* * *

Zuko took a deep breath to steady himself as he stood outside the doors to his father's study. For the past five days, he had been searching through all of the records pertaining to prisoners of war, desperate to find a way to get Katara out of the dungeon. He had rarely left the library during that time and had scarcely managed to summon the will to eat. 

He hadn't even gone to visit his uncle yet. Azula had released Iroh, as she had promised, and the older man was now living his life in the opulence that he had left behind him four years before. The man hadn't contacted Zuko, and the prince was somewhat glad of that fact. 

He was sick at what he had done to Aang, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his uncle was livid over the matter. Iroh had taken the boy under his wing, had taught him how to firebend, had been adopted into the child's family. Yes, Iroh must be both furious and heartsick. 

But what else could Zuko have done? Could he have really murdered his father and allowed Katara to die? If given the chance to go back in time, would he have changed his decision? Zuko closed his eyes against the image of Katara's big blue eyes and bright smile. No. He would make the same choice all over again if it meant that she was able to live just one more day. 

Zuko shook his head to clear his thoughts, and from the corner of his eye he caught one of the servants gazing at him curiously. Zuko scowled at the unwanted attention before smoothing his brow and taking another deep breath. That done, he squared his shoulders and pushed the door open. 

Ozai sat at his desk, papers surrounding him on all sides. It had always been like this, Zuko remembered. Ozai had always been too busy in the war room or with briefs that concerned his country's welfare to pay the proper attention to his family. 

When he was a boy, Zuko had often gone into this very room and sat at his father's feet, desperate for even the smallest measure of affection. Occasionally, his persistence had earned him a rare, fond smile and a light pat on his head. More often, Ozai had told him to run along and play with his dolls. He'd insulted his manhood even then. 

"Father," Zuko greeted to let his presence be known, his voice stronger and clearer than he had expected it would be. 

Apparently surprised by his sudden appearance, Ozai stopped writing and glanced upwards, a brow crooked. "What brings you here?" the man asked, and Zuko swallowed. 

"The Water Tribe prisoner," he said in response, his voice faltering more than he wished for it to. His father's gaze darkened, and the man's mouth thinned into a straight line. He inclined his head for Zuko to continue, and the young man cleared his throat. 

"You see, the girl isn't just the peasant that we expected she'd be," Zuko continued, licking his lips nervously. "Her father is…was… the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. That title would have been passed down to her brother, but the boy is dead as well. Therefore, the girl is the last remaining member of the ruling family. Should she marry another Water Tribe man, the title of Chieftain would pass onto him and her son would be the next in line."

Ozai pushed himself away from his desk and rested his fingertips together. "I fail to see what this has anything to do with me." His tone was bordering on the dangerous, and Zuko straightened his spine in response. 

"In the reign of Kazuo, my great-great grandfather, a war took place between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. The foreign monarch was captured and brought to the Fire Nation as a prisoner of war. In this…delicate situation, he created the law that a captive monarch should be treated as an ambassador, not as a prisoner given the conditions of living quality. Personal freedom was to be restricted but not completely obliterated." 

Zuko removed a scroll from his robes and handed it to his father. "We must obey the laws of our country, no matter how old or obsolete they seem to be. If we do not follow the laws that our ancestors set before us, our people will follow in our footsteps. That path leads to anarchy."

Ozai glanced over the scroll once, and then his lips curved up into a cruel smile. "It seems you are well versed in the manner of the court," Ozai noted, meeting his son's gaze. "While Azula busies herself controlling the conquered nations, you spend your time learning the inner workings of the nobility."

Zuko stiffened, and he clenched his jaw. Ozai looked over his son once more before shaking his head and giving the scroll back to the young man. "No," he said, and turned back to his paperwork. 

Zuko stood still, shell shocked for the moment. "What?" he finally managed once he had regained control of his tongue, but Ozai didn't even bother to look up from where he worked. 

"If we treat her as a foreign diplomat rather than the prisoner of war that she is, the nations that we just conquered will see us as being too soft; too lenient. They will rise up against us, and we will have to squander more of our funds to keep them under our thumb."

"But Fa…"

"If you want her so badly," Ozai finally snapped, stopping mid-stroke, "Have one of the prison guards bring her to your room. Or better yet, go down to the dungeons and take her in her cell." 

Zuko's eyes widened and he fought the urge to scream at his father in retaliation. To dare presume that he would treat Katara…his _wife_…like a common harlot? Unthinkable! "I will do no such thing," Zuko finally managed to say through gritted teeth, and his father expelled a harsh sigh. 

"Then go to the harem. I'm sure one of the women there will be able to satisfy your needs."

Zuko bit his lip so hard that it bled and he leveled a dark glare on the man that had sired him. "I don't think you understand…"

Ozai finally dropped his brush and Zuko noticed that the man's hands quivered as he clutched them together. "Get out, Zuko. Your persistence is tiring, and I have work to do."

Zuko clenched his hands at his side, and he took a deep breath. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to remove Katara from the situation that she was in. Who knew what she had already gone through? Water deprivation surely- they would not take the chance that she would bend her way out of the cell. And the guards…Zuko knew what soldiers did to the pretty women in the prisons. His stomach turned at the thought, and he quickly blocked the image from his mind. 

"She's my wife!" he finally blurted, and then bit his tongue. 

Ozai dropped the brush that he was holding, and ink splattered all over the parchment that he had been writing on. He slowly turned to face his son, fury in his gaze. "What?" he demanded, and Zuko swallowed hard. 

"I…I married her," Zuko repeated, his face draining of all color. This was one thing that he had hoped to keep a secret for as long as he could. But no, his emotions had gotten the best of him and he had blurted it out. 

Zuko saw the tick in his father's jaw, and his muscles stiffened against the blow he was sure would come. Ozai restrained himself admirably, although the smoke that wafted out of his left nostril surely wasn't a good sign. "You weren't fool enough to consummate the marriage, were you?" the man demanded, and Zuko swallowed. 

"Yes, I…yes, the marriage was consummated," the young man admitted, and when his father struck him, he had been prepared. 

"You fool!" Ozai shouted, and then he took a deep breath to calm himself. "There must be a way to annul this…" he muttered, almost to himself. Zuko's heart took a swan dive into his stomach, and he coughed. 

_He can't do this to us! I sacrificed everything for her…I love her! He wouldn't dare…_

"Was she a virgin when you took her?" Ozai asked, startling Zuko from his frantic thoughts. 

"Y-yes," Zuko stammered, and when his father's gaze darkened, Zuko cleared his throat. "She bled, so…"

"It could have been her monthly. Women often fool…inexperienced men in such a way…"

"It wasn't," Zuko insisted, resisting the urge to flush. "I've lived with her for the past few months…she had her monthly two weeks before I laid with her."

Ozai cursed, and Zuko clenched his fists. "She has no family to return to; therefore I cannot cast her out." 

"But she is insubordinate to her father in law, and she is extremely vulgar, if her words to your sister are any indication," Ozai replied smoothly, referring to two of the seven reasons to divorce. 

"In addition, I was an exiled prince when we were married, and now I am the heir to the throne. I've gone from being penniless to rich," Zuko added, and the tick in Ozai's jaw grew more prominent. 

There was silence for several moments, and then Ozai sighed harshly. There were three blocks to divorce in Fire Nation culture, two of which being those which Zuko had already stated. As of now, the Fire Lord could find not foresee a way to end his son's marriage to the Water Tribe wench. 

"I cannot allow my wife to live in the conditions that she is enduring now," Zuko continued, realizing that he had won this argument. 

His father was silent for a long time, and when Ozai spoke, his voice was dark and dangerous. "Fine, then. I leave the matter of where she stays and how she gets there up to you. However, she will be put on bending suppressants immediately, and a guard will be posted outside of her door at all times. And no one…no one is to know that you married the wench. Is that clear?" he demanded. 

Zuko found that he had to smother his urge to grin in triumph. Instead, he bowed to his father. "It will be as you say," he said quickly before turning on his heel and leaving his father's study. 

Ozai watched the young man go, his gaze stormy. At long last, he sat back down at his desk and gripped his ink brush so tight that it snapped in half. _I will have to have Azula see to this…_

* * *

Iroh walked down the halls of the prison, his hands folded inside his sleeves. It had not been so long ago that he had been trapped in one of these cells and had been tormented by his niece. Thanks to the foolhardiness and carelessness of his nephew, he had been released, and an innocent young woman had taken his place. 

_What were you thinking?_ Iroh wondered as he made his way through the gloomy, dank tunnels, his mouth set into a grim line. _Do you realize what you have done to the world…to the woman that you claim to love? Do you know what a fool you are, Zuko? _

He thought back to Aang's soft, childish face; the timbre of Sokka's laugh; the fighting spirit of Toph. All gone, all victims of his family's ambitions. And now the lovely, sweet little Katara's innocence had been brutally stripped from her. She had lost her hope, her brother, her best friend, and her lover all in one day, thanks to Zuko's stupidity. 

Iroh came to a halt in front of the door his nephew had written him of: cell number 273. The boy hadn't even had the courage to face him after all that he had done. No; instead the boy had sent one of his servants to Iroh bearing a note. 

Iroh had fumed when he had read it, but he would not take his anger out on an innocent girl. The child needed at least one person to support her in a land where she was hated. Iroh would stand by the girl's side, whether his nephew requested him to or not. 

"General!" the man sitting guard outside of the cell exclaimed, bowing deeply. 

"I have come on orders of Prince Zuko to relieve you of your burden," Iroh said, forcing a congenial lilt to his tone. The guard raised his brows his question, and Iroh passed him the sealed document that Zuko had sent along with his letter. 

"I see," the guard said after he had broken the seal and scanned the missive. He then pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. "Would you like me to get her for you, General?"

"No, no. I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself," Iroh replied quickly, and the guard nodded. With that, Iroh stepped within the open door and towards the girl that had cost the world its freedom. 

"Katara?" Iroh called out tentatively, hoping to elicit a response. Behind him, the guard cleared his throat. 

"She won't respond, sir," the man said, and Iroh frowned. "I don't think she hears anything. I haven't heard her speak a word since she got here either," he continued, and Iroh's frown deepened. "Maybe…maybe she's deaf," the guard said, but Iroh shook his head quickly. 

"No, not deaf." _Heartsick, maybe._

With that, Iroh walked further in before he stopped suddenly. The image before him made his heart thud in his chest painfully and his throat close. Katara sat before him, but it was not the Katara he knew. The girl's once bright and beautiful eyes were now dull and vacant, staring somewhere past his left shoulder. They were the eyes of one who had lost everything; the eyes of a dying soul. 

Her hair hung loose in her face, grimy strands falling over her seemingly unseeing eyes. She had lost a tremendous amount of weight since he had last seen her, he noted. Her clothes hung from her emaciated looking form; her skin was sallow and her cheeks hollow. 

"Oh, my child," Iroh exclaimed before he could help himself, and dropped to his knees before her. He took her grimy, dirt smudged face between his palms and tilted her head up so that he could meet her gaze, but it was as though she didn't see him; didn't feel his touch. Her gaze remained fixed on some point that he couldn't recognize, and the vacant look on her face broke his heart. 

"Katara, my darling," he murmured softly, gently brushing the strands of her hair out of her eyes. "What have they done to you?"

She didn't make any movement to indicate that she had heard him. She merely sat still, deaf and mute in his fatherly embrace. 

"Come along, let's get you out of here," Iroh said softly, lifting her up by her arms. He set her on her feet, but the moment he let go of her, she crumpled to the ground. She laid where she had fallen, her gaze unblinking, and her body making no move to right itself. 

Iroh swallowed hard past the lump in his throat as another wave of resentment towards his nephew washed over him. _What have you done to her?_ "That's alright, dearest. I'll just have to carry you to your suite. No harm done," Iroh said brightly to mask his anger and concern. He gently lifted the girl's body into his arms, and he winced when he felt her go limp. 

Iroh nodded to the guard as he walked out of the cell, and then man bowed once more. Iroh didn't look back a second time as he wove his way out of the dungeon and up to the surface. He had decided to come for Katara long after the moon had risen in the hopes that few of the courtesans would be awake. He wanted to spare the child as much humiliation as possible, and he knew that hundreds of prying eyes would do little to heal her spirit. 

When he finally arrived at the room Zuko had written about (which was conveniently located in the hall that separated his and Zuko's chambers), a middle aged woman was waiting for him at the door. 

"So this is our little charge," the woman murmured, taking in Katara's appearance with concern. "Bring her in," she ordered, and Iroh's mouth curved up into a smile at the woman's impudence. He did as the woman had commanded him, and stopped still when he saw what his nephew had done.

The traditional reds of the Fire Nation had been replaced with hues of violet and blue- hard colors to come across cheaply in the Fire Nation. Somehow, the boy had managed to scrounge up a few furs for the ground as well. Despite the changes that Zuko had attempted to make, the room was still obviously a Fire Nation one. However, the effort that the boy had obviously put into the room in an attempt to make Katara comfortable thawed Iroh's heart slightly. 

"I had a bath drawn for her ours ago," the woman continued, her back towards him as she carefully arranged several pillows on a chaise lounge. "Put her there for now," she said, and Iroh did so quickly. "The water's gotten cold since then. Be a dear and heat it up for me." She turned towards him as she said this, and the light from the candles danced across her cheekbones. 

"Kin?" Iroh asked incredulously, and the woman inclined her head and tossed him a tired smile. "I thought Ozai would have set you out of work after…" Iroh trailed off, and the woman nodded her head brusquely. 

"He did. Now heat the bath," she said, and waited until Iroh had placed his hand in the water before she continued. "Your nephew brought me back. He said he wanted someone he trusted to look after the girl."

"You?" Iroh asked, his eyes widening. 

Kin shook her head. "I served his mother his entire life. Every time he went to see Ursa, he'd visit me in the process. Of course he'd trust me."

Iroh nodded, and then pulled his hand out of the now warm water. "Are you the only one?" he asked, and Kin shook her head. 

"There are two others…younger women of little consequence. They are here on my recommendation only." By this time, Kin was by Katara's side, carefully examining the girl's face. "What happened to her?" she murmured after a time, her voice suddenly gone somber. 

Iroh shook his head, and Kin nodded in understanding. In a matter of moments, Kin had the girl stripped and in the tub. "Have you ever been in a bath this warm?" she crooned softly as she poured oil into the girl's hair, and Iroh chuckled at the woman's efficiency. 

He had been worried in the beginning, but now he knew that Katara was in safe hands. He knew Kin well…better than he should have, in fact. She would protect Katara when he was not there to do so; she would have no qualms about bullying his nephew should he step out of bounds when he came to visit. Iroh pointed to the door to indicate his departure, and Kin nodded to indicate that she understood his intent before she turned back to her charge. 

"Let me tell you, there is nothing like a hot bath to take away the aches of the day," the woman continued to speak as Iroh stepped outside. "What scent do you like better, dear? Jasmine or rose? I prefer the jasmine myself, but…"

Iroh closed the door on the scene within and then took a deep breath. Kin would heal the wounds inflicted to Katara's body, but he doubted that anyone would ever be able to heal those inflicted to the girl's mind and spirit. Only time could accomplish such a feat, Iroh knew. 

But then he recalled the blankness of her face and the limpness of her limbs, and Iroh couldn't help but wonder if even time would be enough to heal the damage she had suffered. 

Sorry that the first chapter was so short. They'll get longer. Promise. 

I believe that the rating of this fic may have to be bumped up to the M category... according to what has happened thus far, do you think I am justified in doing so?

Please review! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 2

He had never seen her hair down before, Sokka observed numbly

He had never seen her hair down before, Sokka observed numbly. The silky black strands that, in her living years, had been coiled and pinned at the top of her head now flowed against her full cheeks and over her slender shoulders in an inky river.

Soft jasmine blossoms rested on the crown of her head in a halo of sweet fragrance while a panda lily rested in small, folded pale hands. Her gown, like the flowers, was white. It was not the elaborate one befitting of her station, but the rough hewn, plain one she wore fulfilled its purpose well enough.

For the first time since Sokka had known her, Toph Bei Fong had lost her rough and calloused edge. For once, she looked like the Lady that she was born to be, and not the rough and tumble spitfire that she had become. And in death, she looked the part of the child she was never able to be in life.

Sokka sucked in a breath, willing himself to feel something, anything beyond the block of ice that encased his heart. But he felt nothing. His tears had all been shed over a week ago when he had realized that he was the sole survivor of his family. Beno had carried the news to him of their fathers' deaths, and the failure of the war effort itself was what had informed him of his little sister's demise. If Suki hadn't been there for him when he had learned that the two people he had lived for were dead, he didn't know what he would have done.

Clearing his throat, Sokka leaned down and placed a pouch of coins beside the panda lily. The rough hewn brown leather seemed out of place amidst the purity of so much white, but for some reason, it made Toph seem more like herself. For some reason, the crude leather pouch seemed more a part of her than the flowers.

The gold clinked when it came to rest on the girl's abdomen, and despite himself, Sokka managed a tight smile. "You won, Toph," he murmured. If anyone wondered why the Water Tribe chieftain had wasted so much gold on a dead child, they didn't say anything. But then again, all assembled knew that the pair had shared a strange bond. Why should their parting be any different?

Sokka stepped away from the small boat of the slain whose bodies had been recovered, and Suki gripped his hand compassionately. Others moved forwards to pay their respects to fallen loved ones, and still others left before the boat would be lit on fire and set to sea. Yet Sokka continued to stand, his proud shoulders hunched with pain and grief.

An undercurrent of sound ran through the crowd assembled as one of the Water Tribe men walked forwards, a torch in hand. Sokka took a deep, shuddering breath as he listened to one voice and then another take up one of the traditional songs of his tribe. Sokka cleared his throat, and squeezed Suki's hand as he too lent his voice to the music.

_We n' de ya ho, We n' de ya ho, _

_We n' de ya, We 'n de ya ho, Ho, ho, ho_

_He ya ho, Hey ya ho, Ya, ya, ya_

_I am of the great Spirit, it is so._

Several of the Water Tribe men had begun to slap their thighs to keep the rhythm to the song, and still more had begun to sing. The music swelled and reverberated throughout the hearts of all assembled there as the boat was lit on fire and set off to sea. Even Suki, who had not yet learned anything of his tribe, hummed the tune along with them, clutching Sokka's hand tighter than she had been before.

When the last lines had come to a close, silence descended over the group assembled. They each stared at the boat carrying their comrades, lovers, family and friends out over the horizon, yet the faces of those of the Water Tribes were dry. The song of their people had strengthened their hearts so that they were able to commit their loved ones to the great spirits without weeping.

And yet, despite the dryness of his eyes, Sokka felt another part of his soul die.

* * *

The nursemaid hastily set Nozomi down when Zuko entered the room before curtsying quickly and scurrying away. Zuko's frown darkened at the fear that the woman greeted him with, but his concern dissipated when his child pushed herself up to her feet and lifted chubby arms into the air. "Da!" she exclaimed, her wide grin revealing the two teeth that had begun to push their way past her gums.

"Nimi!" Zuko greeted warmly before sweeping the child up in his arms and planting a kiss upon the downy softness of her hair. "Have you been a good girl for your Kiran?" he asked, referring to the nursemaid who had rushed out upon his arrival.

"Yes," the little girl, her cheeks dimpling. "Mama?" she asked, and looked over Zuko's shoulder for Katara. Zuko felt his heart constrict, and he pressed his lips against his daughter's forehead.

"Later, sweetheart. I'll take you to see Mama later."

The child's face scrunched up, and for one terrible, heart stopping moment, Zuko believed that the girl would dissolve into hysterics. Instead, she placed her little palms against his cheeks and frowned deeply. "No. Now," she replied, her childish voice tripping over the words.

"No, Nozomi." Zuko paused and attempted to find a way to put off the child's questioning of Katara until he could speak with his father. "Mama's doesn't feel well," he came up with at last, "and she doesn't want you to get sick too," he improvised.

The little girl's frown deepened and then she let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like one of Katara's. "Down!" she finally exclaimed, and squirmed in Zuko's arms until he did as she bade. Zuko set his child on the floor and she toddled off to the corner where her playthings laid.

"Play!" she exclaimed, lifting a doll into the air with one hand and pointing at her father with the other. Zuko chuckled, and then crouched down beside her. Nozomi shoved the doll into Zuko's hands before picking up two of her own. From there, she proceeded to slip into a babbling tongue understood only by her as she waved her dolls in the air.

Zuko chuckled and mimicked her actions, eliciting a high pitched giggle from the little girl.

"Still playing with dolls, Zuzu?" a voice came from the doorway, and Zuko felt his shoulders tense. He gently patted his daughter's head and rested the doll she'd given him on the floor before standing and turning to face his sister.

"The women in my life have a habit of forcing me," he replied smoothly, as though her comment hadn't ruffled his feathers. The girl smirked in response, and then glanced down at the child.

"At least she inherited my spunk," she commented dryly, and then pursed her lips. "You've really done it this time, Zuko," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. "Father was practically breathing fire when he called me into talk to him the other day."

"What else is new?" Zuko grumbled, and then glanced down to where Nozomi played, oblivious to her father and aunt's conversation. The sight eased his tension somewhat, until he looked back at Azula and realized that her eyes were on his daughter as well.

"Really, Zuko, you bring home a Water Tribe wife and a bastard half-breed? You've officially achieved a new level of low," Azula continued as though she had not heard his previous comment. Finally, she lifted her gaze from the child and looked back at her brother. "How did she come about anyway?" she enquired, and Zuko's eyes narrowed.

"Father sent you to find that out, didn't he?" Zuko demanded, careful to keep his voice low so as not to alert Nozomi.

Azula shrugged, and then sighed artfully. "So what if he did? I'm curious too, you know."

Zuko shook his head, and then ran a hand through his hair. He'd had a feeling that his father or sister would eventually ask him about the child, and he also knew that should they learn that she was merely adopted, they would force her out of the palace and onto the streets. As a result, he had spent the time since he'd brought Nozomi to the palace crafting a story for her creation.

"I was only fifteen at the time," Zuko said, and Azula's brows raised before she shook her head. "I was…frustrated. She was an Earth Kingdom peasant and she…well…" Zuko trailed off and then shrugged. "The details aren't necessary. Suffice to say that she was even younger than I was and a bit…enamored with me. Or the idea of me; I don't really know. I was her first, and apparently her only, if she's to be trusted.

"Not too long ago, the gaang…" Zuko paused and then quickly corrected himself. "The avatar and I happened to be traveling through the village she'd lived in. She recognized me immediately," he paused and touched his scar briefly so that Azula could see why.

"She told me that she hadn't bargained on getting pregnant, and that her parents had turned her out. She said the only way that they'd take her back was if she got rid of the 'Fire Nation brat.' And then she told me that she'd drown the baby if I didn't take her," he continued with an edge of bitterness to his voice that didn't need to be forced. Katara had told him about Sora's abandonment of Nozomi, and the thought of it still set his blood to boiling.

"And you believed her? If she'd kept the kid alive for a year, what made you think that she'd actually go through with the threat?" Azula replied, her brow raised skeptically.

"She was at the end of her rope, even I could see that. She's just a kid really, and having to birth and care for a baby took its toll on her. She was begging on the streets when she found me; I wouldn't be surprised if she'd already considered drowning Nimi before I came along."

Azula's eyes narrowed before she shook her head slowly. "You, my dear Zuzu, are a fool," she said, a smirk turning the corner of her lips upwards. "This girl…what did you say her name was?"

"I didn't," Zuko replied, but when Azula raised a brow he let out a harsh sigh. "Jin," he improvised, using the name of the girl he had dated briefly in Ba Seng Se.

"This girl could have been lying to you. What if she's not yours?"

Zuko scoffed. "There's a shortage of Fire Nation men where she comes from. And Nozomi is quite obviously half Fire Nation."

"She might have slept with one of the soldiers that passed through. Apparently her standards aren't that high," Azula said, looking her brother over from head to toe before shaking her head dismissively.

Zuko's fists clenched at his sides but he ignored the barb. "The timing is perfect. I doubt she would have been with another man just a week or two after I left."

"You overestimate your power over women," Azula observed dryly, and Zuko shot his younger sister a glare.

"She's mine," Zuko insisted, and Azula sighed before she walked over to where the child sat. There she crouched down so that her face was on the child's level.

"Say hi to your Auntie Azula," the princess crooned, and Nozomi frowned up at her before cocking her head to the side. Azula rolled her eyes before pushing herself to her feet. "Well she certainly has your stupidity."

"Damn." Azula turned around to look down at the child, who was grinning up at her.

"And your vocabulary," Azula added dryly with a slight shake of her head. "But she doesn't resemble our family."

"She takes after Jin," Zuko replied easily, and Azula sighed before shaking her head.

"Whatever you say, Zuzu," she replied with a wave of her hand as she walked out of the room. Before, she left however, she turned back around to face him. "Oh, and Father wanted me to tell you one more thing… Next week we're having a celebration of our victory. Your daughter will be announced to the people as the newest addition to the Royal Family."

"Thank you," Zuko replied sincerely, glancing back down at the dark haired child who played at his feet. If Azula had wanted to, Zuko knew, she could have told their father that Nozomi wasn't really his; she certainly had been suspicious enough. The simple fact that she was willing to tell Ozai that she was convinced that Nozomi was his granddaughter when she truly wasn't meant more to Zuko that words could express.

"Don't thank me just yet," Azula replied, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Then, the moment passed and she was as cool and composed as she always was. "Father is going to have the 'Princess' of the Southern Water Tribe displayed before our people in chains in order to demonstrate our glory to its fullest extent."

Zuko swallowed hard, and his face flushed with anger. "How…" he sputtered, horrified. "How dare he! That's my _wife_ that he's putting up there! The people will slaughter her! Does he honestly expect for me to stand by and watch?" he demanded, and Azula cocked her head.

"Of course he does. Remember, the two of us are busy trying to find a way to annul the marriage," the girl replied, and Zuko clenched his jaw. "And you _will_ stand by and watch, if only for your daughter's sake," Azula added, glancing down at the girl. "Father could make her life miserable if he wanted to." She paused, and then met her brother's stormy gaze. "And I could make both of your lives even more horrible than he could if you jeopardize my plans," she added, and Zuko swallowed convulsively, his glare never wavering.

"I don't doubt it," he replied coldly, and Azula gave him that cruel little half smile of hers before turning on her heel and sauntering away.

A muscle in Zuko's jaw ticked, and he clenched and unclenched his hands in anger and frustration. _How could he do this to me? Doesn't he realize what he's doing to me? Is he doing this just because he knows how much it will affect me?_ A little tug on his pants made him look down into the bright, innocent face of his child.

"Play, Dada?" she asked, giving him a hopeful smile.

Zuko's frown didn't ease as he bent down and pulled her pants out of her grasp. "Later," he replied, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. He had too much on his mind now to play with a child; too many things to think about to waste time.

He didn't see how the little girl's face crumpled when he turned and walked out of her room; didn't notice how she looked down at her doll sadly before dropping it at her side and staring down into her lap. He didn't hear the nursemaid say, "Don't worry, Sweetheart; I'll play with you," and he didn't hear the child's response…

"Later."

* * *

"Ozai can't possibly…" Kin stuttered in hushed tones, glancing at her charge out of the corner of her eye. Katara looked beautiful, her brown hair hanging down her back in a shining mass, rouge tinting her cheeks and lips. She wore a kimono of the highest quality, provided by Prince Zuko himself. The younger two women had taken to treating the young woman as a sort of living doll, and had dressed her and made her up accordingly.

However, the woman's mind was still hopelessly shattered. She sat still, her spine straight, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze focused directly in front of her. She rarely blinked and never smiled, no matter what any of her three lady's maids said to her. When they bathed and dressed her, she allowed them to move her limbs, but gave no other form of assistance. For all intensive purposes, she was exactly what the younger women treated her as… a doll.

"He does," Iroh replied grimly, looking over to Katara with resignation written in his features.

"But in _chains,_ Iroh? That's hardly necessary!"

Iroh sighed and shook his head. "Unfortunately, Ozai sees them as a necessity. He has decided that seeing a member of foreign royalty in chains will bolster the people's feelings of accomplishments. We've lost so many in this war; he wants them to feel the triumph."

"What triumph is there in parading a child in armor? Disgraceful is what it is!" Kin retorted in a harsh whisper, and Iroh sighed.

"I'd agree, but…" Iroh sighed and shook his head.

"And what do you think this is going to do to her?" Kin continued. "She's fragile enough as it is. Being laughed at and tormented by thousands of people is hardly going to promote the healing she needs. Three days she's been with me, Iroh. Three days and no progress. I can't imagine what she's going to do after an ordeal as great as that…"

"Kin!" Iroh interjected, gripping the woman's shoulders compassionately. "I've lived with this girl for the past few months. Not too long ago, she was hitting her brother over the head with a spoon, struggling with her feelings for my nephew, discovering the joys of motherhood… You've become attached to her as she is now, and that is highly commendable." Iroh paused, and then sighed. "But you didn't know her before. You don't realize just how much I want for her to be the way she was.

"I know what this is going to do to her, and I hate it. But we have no choice."

Kin shook her head, and looked back to the girl who sat motionless while the two younger lady's maids flitted about her like little birds. "There's no way out of this one, is there?" she asked softly, and Iroh shook his head.

"I'm going to go visit with her," he said after a time of silence, and Kin nodded before lifting a hand to her aching temple. Iroh squeezed the woman's shoulder in comfort before turning to the girl sitting upon the couch.

"Well, hello Miss Katara!" Iroh exclaimed, forcing joviality in his voice as he moved to sit beside the girl. "How are you feeling today?" As usual, there was no response. She didn't even turn her head when he took her limp hands into his own. "Kin tells me that you've been eating better lately," Iroh continued as though her lack of response didn't bother him. "That's good. The more you eat, the more your figure will fill out," he added with a wink that he knew she wouldn't see. "Then the boys will _really_ start chasing you."

The younger two lady's maids giggled and then fluttered around Katara. "Don't listen to him, honey," the plainer of the two said. "Your figure is perfect already. Besides, who needs boys chasing after them?"

"Good for nothing morons," the other agreed with a nod and a smile, joining the other woman at Katara's side. "Brainless idiots."

"Oh, they have brains, Jia," the plainer said. "But when they're around pretty girls, they start to think with their _other_ brain," she said with a wicked smile, and Jia giggled.

"Lian!" she exclaimed, her face flushing even as she laughed.

"Ladies, ladies!" Iroh exclaimed with a laugh and a wagging finger. "Now that isn't always the case. Do you hear them Katara? Making fun of men in such a way? It's disgraceful."

"Oh, come now. She'll learn all about it one day, won't you honey?" Lian said, and Iroh made a shooing motion with his hand.

"If you'll excuse us, ladies…" he said, and the two lady's maids laughed and nodded before scurrying over to Kin, who quickly scolded them for their foolish behavior. Lady in waitings were supposed to act with great decorum, not go gallivanting around like children.

Iroh watched the three with an amused smile before for a moment before he turned back to Katara. "I went to visit Nimi today," he said, but the name didn't draw a reaction from Katara. "She's doing well; very happy. Zu…" Iroh quickly cut himself off, careful not to say his nephew's name in Katara's presence. "She was given the most lovely room- all pink and lace. Very princess-like. And she has a whole collection of toys all to herself, although the dolls are her favorite.

"She misses you though. Wouldn't you like to see her?" Iroh asked, but Katara's gaze remained focused on some distant point that no one else could see. Iroh pushed down his disappointment at her unresponsiveness, and squeezed the young woman's hand. "I'm sure we could arrange something. We probably wouldn't be able to take you to the nursery, of course, but I'm sure that I could bring her here to you."

Again, no response. Iroh sighed softly, and then stroked the girl's hand with his thumb. "I know you're hurting, Katara," he murmured softly, before letting go of her hands and cupping her face. "We're all hurting. None of us feel as betrayed as you do, I'm sure, but we could help you if you let us." He turned angled her head in such a way that they were face to face, but her gaze seemed to bore straight through him.

Iroh heaved out a sigh before dropping his hands from her face. "I suppose you're not ready yet," he said softly, and then forced a smile. "But that's all right. We're all here for you in the meantime. And no matter what happens, remember that everyone here- Kin, Jia, Lian, and I love you very much."

"_No matter what happens in there,"_ _Zuko leaned down close to her again so that his lips were only a breath away from her own. "I want you to know that I love you_."

The slight twitch of Katara's eyebrows caught Iroh by surprised, and he leaned close to her to inspect her face for any other changes. The frown had been so faint and had only lasted for a flicker of a moment that Iroh almost thought he imagined it. Wishful thinking perhaps.

"G-General Iroh," Kin's uncharacteristically flustered voice drew Iroh from his perusal of Katara's face, and he glanced over to the woman to see why she had interrupted his visit with Katara. "Your nephew…" she began, but there was no need for her to continue. Prince Zuko entered the room, his shoulders square and his gaze focused solely on Katara.

Iroh noticed, and quickly shifted so that his ample girth obscured the boy's view of Katara. "Zuko," Iroh greeted, his voice uncommonly cold. His nephew had the common grace to wince, and then the boy met his eyes. Iroh saw the pain written there, as well as the frustration and anger, but the one emotion he didn't see was regret. By Agni, the boy still thought he had done right by the girl he claimed to love.

"Uncle," the boy greeted with a slight bow, but then he peered past him to Katara. "Katara, I just…" Silence greeted him, and from the look on Zuko's face, Iroh knew that the boy thought the silence was a product of her anger rather than that of a broken mind. "Uncle, could you leave us alone for a few minutes?" he asked, and Iroh crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't you think you've hurt her enough?" Iroh asked calmly, and Zuko flinched.

"I didn't…I mean…" Zuko sighed and looked down at his shoes. "I need to apologize to her," he said softly, his shoulders suddenly slumping. Despite himself, Iroh felt pity for the boy well in his chest, and then he cursed himself for his soft heart. "Please, Uncle. Just a few minutes," he pleaded.

Iroh heaved out a sigh and nodded slowly. "I'll stand over there," he said, and his nephew gave him a small, thankful smile. Iroh sighed again. _No good will come of this…_ he thought as he shuffled over to Kin and met her worried gaze with one of his own.

Zuko, however, was left incapable of coherent thought when he laid eyes on Katara for the first time in over a week. She was thinner than she had been, and her skin a great deal paler. Robed in dark blue silk and her small hands folded primly in her lap, she looked delicate- almost like one of the porcelain dolls his mother collected when he was young. And yet, she was still as beautiful as she had always been.

"Katara," Zuko whispered hoarsely as he knelt in front of her. He gently took her small hands within his own large ones and then brought them up to his lips. "I'm so sorry, Tara. I didn't want to hurt Aang, honest to Agni I didn't. If I could have saved him, I would have but… I couldn't let you die."

"I love you, Tara. You have to know that. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Never! But that…in the situation Azula put me in…I didn't…" Zuko swallowed hard and chanced a glance upwards. The young woman didn't give any indication that she had heard a single word he'd spoken. "Katara…honey…" he tried, rising from his knees so that he could look into her eyes.

But those blue orbs were vacant, completely devoid of the spark they'd had the entire time he'd known her. Not even a glimmer of pain shone within them. They were as dull as those of a corpse. "Uncle!" Zuko exclaimed, taking in a shaking breath. "Uncle, what's the matter with her?" Zuko demanded, panic etched into his features when he turned to face Iroh.

Iroh closed his eyes briefly before gesturing for his nephew to come over to him. When the boy clutched the girl's hands tighter and leaned closer to her, Iroh saw that he had no choice. He made his way over to his nephew, and tenderly touched Katara's cheek in the process. As usual, she gave no indication that she felt him.

"Her mind is…fractured," Iroh said at length, looking at Katara rather than Zuko as he spoke. "Whatever happened in that last battle somehow broke her inside," Iroh explained. "The fact that she was mistreated in the prisons didn't help matters either," he added almost as an afterthought, and Zuko choked.

"Isn't there some way to fix her?" he demanded, turning to search the girl's expressionless face. "There must be something we can do!"

"Only time will be able to heal her…and even that may not be enough."

Zuko gripped his uncle's tunic frantically. "What do you mean, 'not enough?' It has to be enough! She can't…I mean…"

"If she ever does come out of this," Iroh said, gesturing to the doll-like way the girl was sitting, "she probably will never be the same as she once was."

Zuko stared at his uncle wide eyed. "No. I won't believe it. She'll come out of this and go back to the Katara we knew!"

"Nephew…" Iroh attempted to warn the boy, but Zuko was ignoring him. Instead, the boy had pulled Katara into his arms. Her head fell limply against his chest, and the prince gently corrected the position of it so as to keep her comfortable.

"You'll be fine, Katara; I know you will," the boy said, taking a seat on the couch and arranging her body so that she would be comfortable against him. His hands tenderly went through the girl's hair before his arms twined themselves around her waist. "Nimi was asking about you today," he said softly, and he pressed a kiss against the girl's forehead.

"I told her you weren't feeling too well, but that you wanted to see her very badly. You do don't you?" He paused and then forced a watery chuckle. "Of course you do; why did I even bother asking…"

Kin watched the boy, a peculiar ache in her heart. "He loves her very much, doesn't he?" she asked Iroh softly.

The aging man felt a slight, sad smile curve upon his lips. "More than I realized," he replied, his voice so soft that she could scarcely hear him. "Much more than I realized."

* * *

"People of the Fire Nation!" Ozai's voice rang over the crowd, the power that the man held evident in every gesture that he made. "Our country has entered its most prosperous era. A war a hundred years in the making has finally come to a close, and with in, our borders have increased one hundred fold!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd, and Ozai basked in the approval of his people. "Sadly, many have died in order for our great country to gain the position that it has today." The crowd quieted, remembering the family and friends that they had lost.

"They shall be remembered as the heroes of the Fire Nation, and the foundation of our new regime." Ozai continued, and a great cheer rose from the crowd once again. "A monument will be built in their honor, so that our descendants may forever look upon them with pride." The cheering swelled in intensity, and Ozai waited for it to calm down before he continued.

"The conclusion of this war has blessed me personally as well," Ozai continued, gesturing behind him to where his family stood. Azula was on his right hand, Zuko his left; little Nozomi's nursemaid held her a few steps behind where Zuko stood. "My beloved son has returned from his exile. I present to you…Crown Prince Zuko!"

Zuko kept his face carefully composed as he stepped forwards, and the people that he would one day rule cheered for him with as much intensity as they had for his father. Ozai then beckoned to the nursemaid to come forwards. "I am doubly blessed, for when Prince Zuko returned to me, he brought my first grandchild with him." He took the child from her nursemaid's arms, and the little girl stiffened before shoving her thumb in her mouth. "Princess Nozomi!" he exclaimed, turning so that his people could glimpse the child that he held.

For one long, terrifying moment, Zuko was afraid that Nozomi would wriggle free from Ozai's grasp or burst into tears at the noise of the crowd. The child did neither. Instead, she leaned out of Ozai's embrace to look down on the throng of people. Then, she giggled and reached out her arms to her people.

Her reaction made Zuko feel equal amounts of pride and fear, for it proved that his daughter was truly a member of the Fire Nation royal family.

Ozai handed the child back to her nursemaid, and both the woman and Zuko stepped back to their previous places behind Ozai. He then turned back to the crowd and held up his hands for silence. "There is another person you must be introduced to as well. We have captured the last surviving member of the Royal Family of the Southern Water Tribe," Ozai proclaimed, and once again, a cheer rose up from his people.

At his words, two guards appeared from the shadows, each holding one of Katara's arms. The girl's wrists were shackled in front of her, but even those couldn't diminish her beauty. Her hair was pulled behind her head in an elegant chignon, her chin lifted high in the air. If Zuko hadn't known better, he would have said that it was pride that held it her. Now, he realized that it was probably merely the weight of her hairdo. She looked the part of the princess that he had claimed her to be, and the crowd's noise suddenly hushed with awe at the foreign captive that stood before them.

It was in that hush that Nozomi craned forwards and caught sight of the woman. "Mama!" she cried loudly, her little voice echoing over the crowd. Ozai clutched his hands at his sides, and Zuko went pale. Azula's eyes glittered with an emotion Zuko couldn't describe, but her mouth turned down at the corners.

"Get her out of here," Ozai quickly instructed the nursemaid, but the child had begun to kick and writhe in the woman's arms. At length, the little girl finally managed to free herself, and she toddled over to where her mother stood, unblinking and emotionless.

"Mama!" The little girl cried out again, and for the first time in nearly two weeks, Katara flinched. "Mama!" Nozomi cried out again, hurrying over to the woman as fast as her chubby little legs could carry her. Katara slowly turned her head, and Zuko's breath caught at the slight motion.

"Nimi?" Katara whispered, her eyes finally coming to focus on her child. "Nimi!" she cried, moving to take a step forwards, but the guards held her arms tightly. "Nimi!" she shouted now, her voice rusty from lack of use. She lurched forwards, but the guards restrained her. Katara's muscles were weak from disuse, but she struggled valiantly in her effort to reach her child.

"Mama!" Nozomi screeched as her nursemaid lifted her into her arms, and tears streamed down the little girl's face as she wriggled and writhed and held her arms out to her mother.

"Nozomi!" Katara shouted, kicking against the guards that held her back. "Let me see my daughter! Let me see her!" she shouted, tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision as she tried to reach her child. "Nozomi!" she shouted hoarsely, desperate to free herself. "Nozomi!"

"Mama!" the child continued to scream as her nursemaid struggled to carry her inside the palace. And then she was gone. The only sound that echoed over the grand balcony and crowd below were Katara's cries and sobs, and even the hardest of the crowd's hearts were moved at scene they had just witnessed.

"Remove her," Ozai ordered tersely, and the guards hastened to do as they had been commanded.  
As Katara was pulled back into the palace, her eyes caught and held Zuko's gaze. The look that she gave him was full of pain and accusation, and it chilled Zuko to the bone. The young man swallowed, and found that he had to wrench his gaze away from the door that she had disappeared behind. He then took a shuddering breath and turned to his father, whose jaw was locked and eyes lit with anger and humiliation.

The day had not been a triumph for the Fire Nation; it had been a disaster.

* * *

_Screams, so many screams_._ A child shouting in agony, rolling over the ground, burned feet gripped in small hands. The horrific stench of charred flesh wafting over to him… a scream so loud and painful that it was inhuman in its intensity…gold eyes boring into him, mocking him…laughing at his failure…_

_A little girl sat building castles in the snow, a smile dimpling her cheeks and her eyes bright and blue. The same girl screaming in terror for the brother that was not there for her…who promised to be there but neglected his duty… Tears falling from her eyes, a name tearing from her lips, but he couldn't stop them…couldn't save her…_

_A craggy faced man staring up at the mast as it burst into flames…his blue eyes going cold and vacant…the name of a woman long dead on his lips as he died…his children, no, child, left alone in the world…_

_A little boy screaming as he clutched his boomerang as men in armor surrounded his village…the blue eyed girl running out into the flames…a craggy faced man telling the boy to stay put as he followed the girl out of the igloo…a mother's cry as she was cut down…a daughter's horrified scream…a husband and father's wailing to the moon…a little boy left alone with his boomerang, screaming into the night…_

"Sh," came the gentle voice of a woman, and a cool hand pressed against his cheek. "It's alright now. Sh," she crooned, her fingers gently caressing his face as she did so. Then warm lips were pressed against his forehead and his body was encased in a set of strong, soft arms.

Sokka opened his eyes, his chest heaving. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he didn't even notice them until the woman wiped them away with the pads of her fingers. "Katara," Sokka gasped, his chest continuing to heave with sobs. "Toph…Dad…Aang…" he continued, the words tearing from his throat of their own accord.

"Sh, I'm here…I'm here…" the woman crooned again, holding him close enough so that he could feel her heartbeat. "I'm here, honey."

Sokka glanced up into Suki's face and noted the tears that fell down her own cheeks. It was his place to comfort her, he knew. As a man, it was his duty to shelter her, to coddle her, to tend to her broken heart. But he couldn't. He himself was too broken to take on the burden of caring for another. "I'm sorry," Sokka whispered hoarsely, wrapping his arms around the woman's middle and allowing the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Suki whispered as she kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back in soothing, comforting circles. "Go back to sleep, Sokka," she murmured softly, leaning her cheek against the man's head. The rocking movement of the Southern Water Tribe bound ship coupled with Suki's gentle touch eased Sokka's frayed nerves, and he finally began to drift again.

A sudden knock at their cabin door, however, made Sokka jerk awake once more. Suki sighed softly before leaning her head back against the wall and squeeze her eyes closed against exhaustion. Sokka, however, was out of bed in an instant. Mere moments after he had pulled his pants over his hips, he hurried over to the door.

Beno was standing there, a piece of parchment in his hands. "I'm sorry to wake you," the young man said, passing the missive to Sokka. "But I thought you'd want to know right away," he said, and Sokka swallowed hard before thanking his friend and closing the door.

"What is it?" Suki asked softly after a long period of silence, pushing herself out of the bed and wrapping her arms around her intended from behind.

It took Sokka a long time to answer, and when he finally did his voice had regained some of the warmth that it had lost. "Katara's alive."

* * *

**A/N:** Once again, thanks so much for reading. As a sidenote, the song that Sokka sang earlier in the story is actually a real song. It is called the Cherokee morning song and is sung by Walela; It is beautiful, and I highly suggest you listen to it. I do realize that the Water Tribes are based off of the inuit, but since traditional Inuit songs were banned after the colony was christianized, I was able to find very little. So, I decided to add a little bit of a Native American aspect to the Water Tribe culture.

In addition, I'd like to clarify something about last chapter. The Fire Nation is based off of the Taang Dynasty in China, and in the Taang Dynasty, there were divorce codes. There were seven reason to divorce (which could be stretched considerably by the husband's family) and three blocks to divorce. Zuko listed two of these blocks in his conversation with his father, and Ozai listed three of the reasons to divorce.

**As always, please review. Thanks so much!**


	4. Chapter 3

Zuko walked quickly through the halls of the Fire Nation court, his stride more of a soldier's than a nobleman's. As he walked, a hush fell over the imperial court. The scene his daughter and the Water Tribe woman had made the day before was still fresh in everyone's minds, and had become a matter of great speculation. The whispered words of "concubine" and "bastard" reached his ears, but Zuko strove to ignore them.

"My Lord!" a call came from over the hush and Zuko turned to the voice. Mai stood with her chin in the air and a gilded fan in her hand. Now at home in the Fire Nation, the young woman's face was painted, her thin pale lips made full and dark with rouge. "Would you care to join me in the gardens?" she asked smoothly, and the murmuring of the court picked up once again.

Zuko didn't bother to spare a glance at the vipers around him as he bowed his head towards Mai and extended his arm. The woman gave the barest trace of a smile as she slipped her own arm through his, and then looked at the woman she'd been standing next to with a hint of triumph and superiority. Zuko watched as the other woman turned red with anger beneath her paint before she delicately fanned herself and casually mentioned how hot the palace got in the summer.

"Friend of yours?" Zuko asked lowly enough so that only the woman on his arm could hear.

"She bores me," Mai replied, and Zuko's lips stretched into a crooked smile.

Zuko could feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon him, and he stiffened at the attention. Mai gently squeezed his arm in response to his tension. "Lift your chin. If you act like you're above reproach, they'll believe it," she instructed softly, and Zuko did as she bid.

When they had finally made their escape to the gardens, Zuko dropped Mai's arm and ran a hand over his face. "Are they always like that?" he demanded. When he'd lived amongst the court, his mother had always been at his side to protect him. In addition, he had been a mere child, and therefore completely oblivious to his surroundings. This side of his home… it disturbed him to no end.

Mai chuckled darkly and nodded. "Always," she replied, and Zuko cursed under his breath.

"I prefer the company of sailors," he noted bitterly, and a corner of Mai's mouth turned up into an amused smiles.

"Sailors are too coarse for my tastes," she replied, taking a seat upon a marble bench. "But soldiers are far preferable to the women of the court," she added. Zuko glanced over at her, a brow raised. Mai chuckled again and patted the space beside her. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed? The men are simple, straightforward creatures. It is the women that scheme and plot and gossip."

"Vipers, the lot of them," Zuko agreed, moving to sit where Mai had bade him to. There was silence for several moments, and Zuko busied himself by watching the servants tend to the rose bushes. The plants themselves were beautiful, grown by his mother's father and transported to the palace the eve before his parent's wedding. Supposedly, his mother had woven the creamy white blossoms into her hair beneath the heavy gauze veils, but no one knew for sure. No one except for Kin.

Thinking of Kin reminded Zuko of Katara, and he shuddered when he remembered the accusation of her gaze. If he had been any other man, he could have returned her daughter to her. But he wasn't just any man. He was the crown prince of the Fire Nation, therefore, he was subject to the whims of his father. And had he interfered and placed Nozomi in Katara's arms, Ozai would have had the right to banish him again. Then who would protect his wife and child from the intrigue of the Royal family?

Mai took a deep breath, and then bit her lip in an uncharacteristic act of nervousness. "What exactly is your relationship to the Water Tribe girl?" she asked, and surprisingly, Zuko didn't get angry.

"I'm forbidden from speaking about it," Zuko replied, locking his jaw. Mai nodded in understanding, and then she too raked her gaze over the splendor of the gardens, trying to find a safe topic on which to speak.

"The child is beautiful," she finally complimented, and Zuko's lips turned upwards into a tired, paternal smile. "Is she…"

"No," Zuko said before Mai could ask. "Nozomi isn't hers. Ka…" Zuko stopped himself before he finished speaking Katara's name, "…_She_ adopted her. We were living as…" Zuko trailed off again, unable to complete the sentence with the words 'husband and wife.' It had been expressly forbidden by his father, after all. However, Mai nodded and Zuko knew that she understood. "…so it made sense."

Mai nodded again, and lowered her gaze to her lap. "Does she see the child?" she asked after some time, and Zuko shook his head slowly.

"Father has forbidden it," he replied bitterly, recalling the argument he and his father had gotten into the night before. Ozai had been humiliated that the nature of his son's 'disgraceful relationship with the Water Tribe wench' had been made public. He had informed his Zuko that if he himself wanted to visit the woman, that was his business. However, since Nozomi had become a legitimate member of the royal family, the child needed to remain far away from negative influences. Therefore, the child was forbidden from seeing her mother.

Mai noted the tick in Zuko's jaw, so she rested a long, pale hand over his own. "I'm sorry," she said softly, and Zuko heaved out a sigh before he gently squeezed the young woman's hand. Mai's eyes widened with surprise before she carefully schooled her features once more, a feat that served to both amuse and annoy Zuko to no end.

And then he abruptly remembered that while she may be a friend, she was still his sister's ally. She had to have known all of this before she had spoken with him; perhaps she was merely gleaning information for his sister. Zuko scowled at the thought and quickly withdrew his hand. "Of course you are," Zuko muttered his breath, and Mai frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded in a monotone, although Zuko could sense her frustration.

"Nothing," the man mumbled before pushing himself to his feet. He walked out of the gardens without a backward glance, and Mai heaved out a sigh before shaking her head.

She then studiously studied her hands in an attempt to push Zuko and her feelings for him from her mind. Despite the fact that the battle had occurred two weeks before, blood was caked beneath her fingernails.

* * *

Suki shivered as she stepped off the Water Tribe boat, and pressed herself closer to Sokka for warmth. The men had managed to scrounge up a parka for her, but even the warmth that provided wasn't enough to ward off the chill. Sokka's hand tightened around hers, and Suki swallowed hard as she stared out at a barren wasteland of ice and snow. A tiny, ruined village sat in the middle of it all, a thin stream of smoke lifting into the air.

The place smelled of ash and fat and smoke, and Suki found she had to struggle to keep her face composed. This is where Sokka grew up? This pathetic village no bigger than the market square of Kyoshi? This is where she was to live and raise her child?

She risked a glance upwards and saw that the corners of Sokka's lips were turned upwards in a ghost of a smile. "Home," he murmured softly, gazing at the village with warmth in his eyes. Suki bit her lip, and then let out a shuddering sigh. She really had no choice in the matter, anyway. Sokka was the chieftain of his tribe now, and if she wanted to stay with him, she would have to live in this dismal land. She shivered again, and wrapped her arms tightly around her body.

"You'll get used to it," a voice came from behind her, and Suki turned so that her eyes met Beno's. There was a wry grin on his face, although his eyes were still pools of sorrow. He'd lost his father in the war, as well as the girl that he had claimed to love. Apparently, Hakoda had been trying to arrange a marriage between Katara and the boy.

"I'm sure I will," Suki replied with more strength than she realized she possessed at that moment. She felt Sokka's gaze upon her, and she turned to face him with a smile. "I will learn to love it just as much as you do," she vowed, conviction in her voice.

Sokka's smile widened as he bent and pressed a kiss against her temple. "Thank you," he murmured softly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before stepping forwards. An elderly woman had made their way towards them, a pack of young women trailing behind her. Children hid behind the women's parkas, their eyes wide and frightened.

"Gran-Gran," Suki heard Sokka say as he made his way forwards. He gestured for Suki to follow, and she complied.

So this was Sokka's grandmother. The woman had a strong, square jaw, indicative of a stubborn personality. Her face was brown and weathered, wrinkles etched deep into her skin. There was fear in her heavy lidded blue eyes as she stared at her grandson, and Suki felt Sokka tense beside her.

The man took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. He expelled the breath and then took another, clenching his fists at his sides. "The Fire Nation…" Sokka trailed off, and he squared his shoulders. "The avatar…has fallen."

The old woman looked over Sokka's shoulder at the men that walked forwards, their gait slow and heavy in defeat. The women that had stood behind Kana were suddenly a flurry of motion, lifting children in their arms as they rushed forward to greet brothers, husbands, fathers, and lovers. Suki watched each long, joyous embrace, her throat constricting.

"Many fell before him," the old woman said, her gaze flicking from the reunions and back to her grandson. "And many will fall after him," she added. Suki stopped breathing for a moment as she stared at the old woman before her, familiar hair loops blowing in the icy breeze. This woman had lived a hard life; through her experiences, she had learned to accept things for what they were while simultaneously moving forwards.

Sokka ducked his head, and the old woman ran her fingers over the fur of Sokka's parka. "You are the Chieftain now," she observed, and for the first time, Suki saw the woman's strength falter. Sokka dipped his head in assent, and the old woman took a shaky breath. "Hakoda was a good man. Your first son must bear his name," she said, and Sokka nodded in agreement.

"And your sister?" the old woman asked, the fear apparent in her eyes. "Where is our little Katara?" she asked and Sokka stared down at his boots.

"Taken," he said, his voice hoarse. "She is a prisoner in the Fire Nation now," he explained. The old woman let out a low, keening noise as she swayed on her feet, and the hairs on Suki's neck stood on end at the anguish in the sound. Sokka gripped his grandmother's shoulders to hold her steady, even as his own arms trembled. The woman calmed herself, and then she patted her grandson's cheek.

"She will return," she said softly, and Sokka nodded.

"If I have to retrieve her myself," he confirmed, and the old woman managed a tight lipped smile.

Her eyes then flicked over to meet Suki's gaze, and she turned back to her grandson. "Who is this?" she asked, and Sokka wrapped his arm around Suki's waist.

"My betrothed," he replied steadily, and the old woman swung her gaze back to Suki. She could sense that the old woman was measuring her up, taking in her fair skin, auburn hair and small frame. The woman probably thought she was a poor choice- a weakling, a foreigner. Suki straightened her spine and squared her jaw as she returned the old woman's appraising glance.

The old woman chuckled lowly at her response. "She is a good choice," she said by means of approval, and Sokka nodded his head. He didn't smile; didn't crack a joke or do anything that he would have done under normal circumstances. No; he merely nodded his head. Who was this man who rarely smiled? Where had the Sokka she had fallen in love with gone to?

"You see," the old woman said, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. "Not all is lost," she added, and Sokka dipped his head. "My name is Kana," the old woman said, looking back to Suki once more. "But you can call me Gran-Gran."

And just like that, Suki was accepted into the Southern Water Tribe.

* * *

For three days, the tears fell. They fell through the paint that Lian and Jia had applied to her face; fell when they bathed and dressed her, fell when she laid her head down at night. She never ate, never slept- just wept. The first day, she had screamed as well as wept, repeatedly calling out her child's name and raining curses over the Fire Nation. The second day, her throat had been too raw to scream, and so she had merely pleaded, wringing her hands and tearing at her hair. On the third day, however, she had withdrawn into herself.

Occasionally, she would come out of her shell, but only for an instant. Then, she would resume the form of a living doll, albeit a doll that wept. Kin wiped the woman's tears away with a damp cloth, knowing that doing so was pointless. She heaved out a sigh as she gently rested her hand on Katara's shoulder, and then patted the young woman's head. Wearily, she turned to the two other lady's maids, both of whom seemed to be at their wits end.

None of them had slept these past three days in their attempts to calm their mistress. Unlike Kin, however, these girls were not used to sleepless nights; they had yet to be embroiled with the affairs of the Royal Family. Long ago, before Zuko was a twinkle in his mother's eye, she had arranged the liaisons of Ursa and Iroh. What Ozai would do if learned of her betrayal terrified her, but her love for her mistress and respect for the general had outweighed those fears. Nevertheless, she would lay awake for nights on end, broken out into a cold sweat and dreading the day that the truth would be revealed.

Yes, Kin had her fare share of stress and terror, but Lian and Jia hadn't. They were good girls and excellent maids, but they weren't equipped for the situation that they had been thrown into. "Get some sleep," Kin said, looking towards the girls. The pair protested weakly, but Kin ushered them into the room that adjoined their mistress'. Once they entered, they collapsed onto their cots, too weary to protest.

Kin slowly shut the door behind them and then made her way over to her mistress. It was strange to think of the young woman as such, Kin noted as she took a seat beside Katara. It seemed as though the girl was more of a ward than a mistress. Kin lifted the kerchief and wiped Katara's face again before tucking the cloth into her sleeve. "Come now, dear, I'm sure everything will be alright. General Iroh is determined to bring your child to you," she attempted to placate the young woman that she sat beside.

Katara sniffed slightly and lifted a trembling hand up to her eyes, where she wiped away the tears that had gathered there. "Is he?" she asked softly, her voice hoarse and strained from all of her screams and tears. Kin knew that the simple act of speaking must have pained the girl, for Katara winced as she spoke.

Kin lifted her finger to her lips in order to hush the young woman, and then she nodded.

"Why hasn't Zuko brought her?" Katara demanded in a strained whisper, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood after she spoke. Kin wiped the crimson liquid away with the cloth and then gently patted Katara's cheek, unable to look her mistress in the eyes. "Oh," Katara sighed weakly, her hands dropping to her lap as she stared straight ahead. The tears streamed down her face even as her eyes became glazed and vacant.

Kin sighed softly, realizing that Katara had once again pulled inside of herself. "Poor dear," Kin murmured softly, gently patting the girl's hand. Kin sighed before standing and wiping the girl's tears away again, and then made herself busy by making the room presentable.

In her fit two days prior, Katara had practically demolished her room. Priceless antique vases lay shattered upon the stone floor, the canopies from the bed had been torn, the curtains had been ripped from their places and hung in tatters on the floor. The cosmetic table had been overturned, jars of kohl and rouge and rice-powder littered the ground. This was the first day that Katara had calmed down enough for Kin to clean, so the room was still in shambles.

Kin heard the door scrape open, and she sighed as she folded the remains of the curtains. "Now isn't a very good time, General," she said without bothering to look over her shoulder. She placed the folded silk tatters upon the bed, and then made her way to the maid's quarters that the two younger women had retired to earlier.

"What happened in here?" The voice was deep and dangerous, but far too young and clear to belong to Iroh. Kin turned to face the intruder, and she quickly bowed her head to indicate respect.

"As I said, Prince Zuko, now is not the best of times to be visiting the Lady Katara. Perhaps tomorrow, she will…" Kin began, subtly pushing the man she had helped raise towards the door.

"What happened?" Zuko demanded again, his eyes roving the ruins of a once beautiful room. Kin squared her shoulders and gave the young man the same look she had thrown his way when he had misbehaved as a boy. Zuko clenched his jaw and took a step forwards, realizing that Kin would be unable to discipline him now.

"Do you not remember the scene on the balcony, Prince Zuko?" She asked tartly, and Zuko winced before his glare darkened. Of course he remembered- everyone in the entire Fire Nation remembered. Although he supposed that no one else had felt the woman's pain as though it were his own; felt as though it was he that was being torn from his only child instead of her.

"This is what happened afterwards," Kin continued, sweeping her arms outwards to indicate the damage done to the room.

Zuko stared at the room again, and then swung his gaze back to Katara. The woman sat in the midst of it all, her spine straight and her hands folded in her lap. Her gaze was once again focused both forwards and inwards, and Zuko's stomach dropped. "I thought she was better," he said softly, gesturing to the still woman.

The lady's maid took several steps forward so that she was obscuring his view of his wife. "She _is_ doing better," the woman replied, the tone of her voice protective. Despite himself, Zuko smiled. It appeared that Katara managed to get under everyone's sin, whether she was lucid or not.

Zuko quickly side stepped the woman and took a seat beside his wife, drawing her hands into his own. "How so?" he asked when the woman made no movement to indicate that she was aware of his presence.

"She will occasionally respond to a statement I make… she periodically becomes aware of her surroundings," Kin replied, her voice dark with anger. Zuko recognized the emotion in her voice, and readily accepted that he was the cause of it. He'd had his time of appearing to be the hero, but he had donned the mantle of the villain once again.

Zuko tenderly turned Katara's face towards him, now ignoring Kin's presence. "Do you hear me, sweetheart?" he asked softly, but the young woman made no response. He sighed softly, and gently traced her features with his thumb. "Please, Katara, just look at me," he pleaded, and he swallowed hard when he received no response.

Zuko pulled his hands away from her, and then rested his head in his hands. "Please, Katara…" he whispered, no longer able to look at her.

"Let me see Nimi," the voice was small and strained, but it was Katara's nonetheless. Zuko jumped in surprise, and then whirled around so that he was facing the young woman. Her gaze was focused now, although it was studiously turned away from his form.

"Katara…" Zuko breathed, but then he blinked and took her hands between his again. "Katara, I'm sorry…for everything. For Sokka and Toph…for Aang," the avatar's name came out in a strangled tone, for Zuko was still unable to face the fact that the boy was dead- that he had killed him. "I never meant for…"

"Let me see Nimi," Katara said again, cutting off Zuko's flow of apologies. The young man paused, and the woman carefully withdrew her hands from his. "I want to see her," Katara said, and Zuko swallowed.

"I can't," Zuko replied softly, and panicked when he saw Katara's eyes begin to glaze over again. "Ozai has strictly forbidden me from letting you see her. If it were up to me, I'd have her here every day, but…" he trailed off when he realized that Katara had retreated to the deepest recesses of her mind.

Zuko then swung his gaze over to Kin, who was staring out the window and down at the gardens. He heaved out a sigh before pushing himself to his feet and heading towards the door. "I'll find a way," he promised, although he wasn't sure whether he was speaking to the lady's maid, to Katara, or to himself.

Kin turned away from the window when she heard the door slam closed, and looked back to her charge. The tears were coursing down the woman's cheeks again, her gaze focused straight ahead of her. Kin sighed softly and moved to sit beside the young woman, ignoring the shambles of the room. "My poor, poor dear," she murmured, resting a hand on Katara's head.

Kin heaved out another sigh and turned to tidy up, leaving Katara to the world she had constructed in her mind.

* * *

"So… I heard you were talking to Zuko today," Ty Lee said, curling herself up and resting her chin on her knees.

"Yeah," Mai deadpanned, running a brush through long, silky black strands. Ty Lee's eyes followed the motion of the brush- from the top of Mai's head all the way down to her hips, where the strands came to an end. She watched the process several more times before running her fingers through her own coarse, crazy brown hair that needed to be braided in order to cooperate.

"What 'cha talk about? I mean after that whole thing with the kid and the Water Tribe girl I would have thought you'd ignore him. I mean, if I told a guy I loved him and he ran off and shacked up with some other girl and had a kid with another one, I wouldn't even give him a second glance. But then again, you and Zuko have kind of been together since you were kids and…"

"Do you ever breathe?" Mai asked dryly, and Ty Lee grinned.

"Of course I do, silly. If I didn't breathe I wouldn't be alive, now would I?" the acrobat replied uncurling her body so that a leg hung off the side of the bed. "What was I talking about again?" Mai rolled her eyes from her seat at the vanity, looking back into the mirror as she continued to run the brush through her hair.

"Well if you can't remember, what makes you think I will?"

"Oh yeah- Zuko," Ty Lee said after a moment, lifting her finger up into the air. "So, Irma told me that Nara told her that Zayna's servant said that she saw you two holding hands in the garden," Ty Lee continued after a quick breath, and Mai heaved out a deep sigh.

"Hearsay," the dark robed girl said, placing her brush down on the vanity and pulling her night robe closer about her pale, slim frame. "And who, by Agni, is Irma?" Mai added after a moment, and Ty Lee grinned cheekily.

"Well, she's Azula's cousin, Han Yu's, best friend's sister's cousin's aunt's distant relative," Ty Lee concluded with a bright grin, and Mai sighed.

"Didn't catch a word," the girl replied, rising from her vanity and making her way over to her bed. A maid hurriedly turned down the covers for her, and Mai quickly made a shooing motion with her hand. The maid bobbed in a slight curtsy before scurrying away.

"Oh. Well, Han Yu has this really 'good friend." Her sister has this cousin…"

"Just stop right there," Mai said, raising a shapely hand to cut off her friend's flow of words. "It's not that important anyway; it isn't like I'm ever going to meet this Irma," she added, and Ty Lee frowned.

"Well you might," the acrobat insisted, rotating her body so that she faced her friend as the girl slid under the covers. "According to Yara, Irma's been sleeping with Han Yu's younger brother…but she's married to Jee Ying, who would be next in line after Han Yu to receive the throne. Everyone also says that she's a regular harpy, but she's always been nice to me. Then again, I am one of Azula's inner circle, and if she wants to worm her way into Ozai's bed like Ooli says she does…"

"Enough," Mai finally said, lifting a hand to her temple. "Where do you hear these things?" she finally asked, and Ty Lee frowned.

"Didn't I tell you already? Well Yara told me that…" she began again, but Mai groaned and placed her head in her hands, effectively silencing Ty Lee. "What was I talking about again?" she asked, and Mai rolled her eyes. "No, seriously, I'm sure I had a point…" Ty Lee continued.

"Why don't you just go back to your rooms and go to sleep?" Mai suggested, and Ty Lee frowned.

"But I'm not tired. And I had _something _to ask you about, if I can only remember what it was…" Ty Lee paused in thought, and then grinned. "Oh yeah! You and Zuko…in the garden…holding hands. What's up?"

Mai leaned her head against the headboard and closed her eyes. "We were just talking."

"About what?" Ty Lee asked, cocking her head to the side.

"The idiots in the court," Mai replied, lifting one eyelid to peer at Ty Lee meaningfully before sliding it closed again.

"Tell me about it! Sniveling gossips, the lot of them. I mean, don't they have _something_ to do besides talk about other people?" Ty Lee replied quickly, and Mai let out an uncharacteristic chuckle at the contradiction that was Ty Lee.

"What?" Ty Lee demanded, and Mai shook her head. Ty Lee scowled, and then crossed her legs so that she was sitting in the lotus position. "Anyway, are you sure you're still interested in Zuko after all he did to you?" the girl continued, and Mai sighed.

"I really don't want to talk about this," Mai replied, and Ty Lee rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Oh, come on Mai!"

Mai glared at Ty Lee before sliding her body down in her bed until her head was parallel to the ceiling. "Leave it, Ty Lee," she warned, her voice tinted with an edge of steel.

"Oh, fine," the acrobat replied petulantly, and rose from the bed. "Since you're in such a bad mood, I guess I'll just go now," she added huffily, and Mai whispered a prayer of thanks to Agni. "Oh!" Ty Lee exclaimed when she opened the door, and Mai muttered a curse. "Hiya, Azula."

At this, Mai propped herself up on one elbow as she stared at the doorway. "Don't you realize how late it is?" she asked the princess, shaking her head to clear away the fog of sleep.

"Of course I do, Mai, but I have something important to talk about." She paused, and then turned to Ty Lee. "You might as well stay. However, if anything I tell you leaves this room, you'll spend the week in the dungeon," she warned, and Ty Lee waved her friend off.

"I've kept all your secrets so far. I don't see why you think I'm going to go off and tell everyone everything you say," she replied indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Mai and Azula shared a long look before sighing simultaneously.

"I'm sure you've heard that your father has entered into negotiations with mine," Azula said, glancing over at Mai. The older girl frowned and pushed herself into a sitting position.

"No. He neglected to tell me that," she replied dryly, and Azula widened her eyes in mock surprise.

"Well, that is distressing. I thought he would have told you about your upcoming nuptials," the princess said, and she waited for Mai's reaction. The older girl stiffened her spine, and her face swiftly became a blank canvas. Azula's lips turned up into a smile at the predictable reaction. "Although I suppose Father told him not to inform you just yet. What with Zuko already being married…"

Ty Lee jumped forwards, her eyes wide. "Zuko's married?" she demanded, and Azula sighed dramatically. Ignoring her enthusiastic friend, she turned to face Mai.

"But we're in the process of annulment. Once that's accomplished, he'll be all yours," Azula added, taking a seat on the edge of Mai's bed. Mai carefully schooled her features as she studied her nails.

"Why would you tell me this?" she asked, and Azula smiled. Quickly, the girl dumped a dozen or so scrolls out of the bag she had been carrying onto Mai's bed.

"I need your help."

So... you know the drill. Please review!


	5. Chapter 4

"Mai, I don't understand!" Ty Lee exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips. "I would've thought you'd be happier about all this. I mean, you've loved Zuko for, like, ages, and now that the two of you are finally getting married, you're all…gloomy!"

"I'm always gloomy," Mai replied dryly, her brown eyes flicking briefly over a scroll before she set it to the side. She then unrolled another, her long slender fingers deftly untying the knots that kept the contents of the scroll secure.

"Not this gloomy," Ty Lee grumbled under her breath, and then heaved out a deep sigh. "Have you found anything yet?" she asked, peering across the table at the scroll Mai was reading. "Or are you even really looking?" she then asked pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Of course I'm looking," Mai replied, and then pressed her fingertips to her aching temple. _I'm just not sure that I want to find anything._ She let out a soft sigh before pushing the scroll away from her. "I have a headache," she explained as she rose to her feet.

Ty Lee said nothing for once, instead choosing to raise her brows and cock her head to the side to demonstrate her disbelief. The pink clad girl then heaved out a dramatic sigh and shook her head. "I don't understand you," the girl then murmured in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. "You have everything now, Mai. _Everything._ Why are you acting like this wedding is more of a punishment than a gift?"

Mai turned from her friend and gazed back towards the scrolls that were strewn about her room. "Maybe it is," she replied softly. Ty Lee's eyes rounded in surprise.

"But you love him!" the young acrobat exclaimed, shock etched into her features.

That statement made Mai remember her own parents and their strained marriage. According to the palace gossips, there had been another man in her mother's life; another man that still resided in her heart. But she had been forced to marry an older man- a widower. Her father had cared for her mother at one point, Mai knew, but over time the woman's pain and resentment had chafed at him. Where love had once lived, apathy reigned.

Would it be the same with Zuko? Would he pine for his lost waterbender while they drank from their wedding goblet? Would he picture a dark skinned beauty every time he looked into her face? Would he ever be able to forget Katara, whose beauty and grace was only surpassed by that of the water she bent?

Would he ever be able to love her, Mai the plain, with as much passion as he had loved his first wife?

A breathy, humorless laugh escaped Mai's lips, and she shook her head. "Sometimes love just isn't enough," she replied to Ty Lee's exclamation, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as she admitted the terrible truth. Mai then took in a deep breath and turned away from her friend. "My headache has gotten worse. I need to lie down."

Ty Lee watched helplessly as her friend walked away, and had to bite back the urge to run forward and fling her arms around Mai. Ty Lee didn't need to peer into Mai's aura to see the sorrow that hovered about her friend like a dark cloud. The girl's pain made Ty Lee's own heart ache, and she keenly felt the need to ease Mai's troubled mind. But she knew she couldn't.

Mai had chosen to stumble down the path of heartache alone.

--

Suki leaned back against the wall of ice and wiped her mouth with a gloved hand. She took a few deep, shuddering breaths in an attempt to calm her still rolling stomach, but it did little good. The morning sickness that had been present while in the Fire Nation had become worse down in the country of wintry wastes, as though the baby itself objected to the frigid climate.

"I know how you feel, sweetheart," Suki murmured, pressing a gloved hand over her stomach. She missed the feel of warm grass beneath her feet and the call of the birds in the morning. Everything seemed so dead in the South Pole…so lifeless. Yet again, Suki wondered how it was that Sokka loved the inhospitable land so. That thought led to another, more disturbing one: she had promised Sokka that she would come to love the South Pole as though it were her own home. Would she able be able to fulfill that promise?

"Suki?"

The voice of an elderly woman drew Suki's thoughts away from herself and forced her to focus on her surroundings. "Gran-Gran?" Suki replied, pushing herself to her feet, and swiping her hand across her mouth one last time. It felt odd to call the oldest and obviously most respected member of the tribe by such a familiar name, yet Suki knew that Kana would accept no other title.

The old woman entered the "toilet" upon hearing Suki's voice. In reality, the restroom could barely be called such. The room was merely a large block of ice with several buckets within. After completing one's business, one would have to carry the bucket outside (hopefully before it froze) and dump it into the ocean. There was no place to bathe, and Suki found that the stench of the Southern Water Tribe was just one more thing she had to get accustomed to.

"Are you feeling well?" Kana asked after she had peered into the bucket. "You look pale- but then again, you always do," the elderly woman noted frankly, and Suki felt a flush crawl up her neck.

"The stewed sea prunes that I ate last night must have upset my stomach," Suki said by means of explanation for her condition, not yet willing to disclose the truth to Sokka's grandmother. According to her intended, the Southern Water Tribe was very strict when dealing with the issue of the purity of their tribe members, and due to this fact the members of the tribe would not be very receptive to Suki's pregnancy.

Suki stiffened slightly when she heard Kana humph in disbelief at her excuse, and she bit her lip when the woman ran a critical eye over her body. With the exception of Sokka, Suki alone knew what changes had occurred in her body over the past few months. The once taught, flat plain of her stomach had rounded out so that her hipbones were obscured from view. However, her heavy parka hid the babe growing within her womb, and would continue to do for quite some time.

"How far along are you?' Kana's pointed question made Suki cough, and the young woman lifted her gaze to that of Sokka's grandmother. For a moment, she considered denying her pregnancy, but then she realized that denial would be futile. Kana was far too perceptive for her own good.

"Around four months," she finally admitted, and Kana nodded her head.

"I thought as much," the old woman murmured under her breath, and then sighed. "I suppose you have some questions for me regarding the whole process," she said, and Suki's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're not angry?" the Kyoshi warrior blurted before she could stop herself, and Kana chuckled under her breath.

"Chastity doesn't seem to run in our family," the old woman said with a slight smile, and Suki frowned. Kana then shook her had and took Suki's hand within her own. "Come along, dear. I have some cream you'll probably want to use."

"For what?"

"To get rid of those stretch lines on that white skin of yours," Kana replied dryly, and Suki's hand flew to her stomach. The angry, purplish lines had begun to criss-cross her once flawless belly, but she had believed that the ugly marks could not be separated from pregnancy.

"You mean I can really get rid of them?" Suki asked incredulously, and Kana chuckled.

"Ah, the vanities of youth…" the old woman mumbled as she drew Suki from the toilet. "Don't forget your bucket," she instructed, and Suki hastened to pick it up. A glance downwards revealed that the contents of the said bucket had frozen over sometime during her conversation with Sokka's grandmother.

Once again, Suki cursed the Spirits forsaken wasteland that Sokka called his home.

--

She sat cold and distant, her once vibrant blue eyes dull and vacant. Taking her cue, Zuko remained silent as well, willing for her to look at him with his gaze. She didn't even turn her head. This was not the Katara he knew. The Katara he knew would have been pacing, shouting, breaking anything in her line of sight. This Katara… she merely sat there, empty, lifeless. Her silence was more condemning than her words could ever be.

"I wish I could bring Nimi to you; I really do. But, Katara, you have to understand. Our situation is so delicate right now… I can't risk angering my father any more than I already have," the man said, feeling the need to justify himself. He received no response.

Her posture told him what her speech could not: he was to blame for everything that had happened to her; for the loss of her life, her family, and her child. His betrayal had cut her more deeply than any sword ever could, and the fact that he was keeping her daughter for her only intensified the pain that she felt.

Zuko felt heat rise to his face in shame, and he growled deep in his throat, finding that anger was a far easier emotion to deal with. "Say something!" he demanded. The girl didn't even blink. It was as though she had been rendered blind, deaf, and mute in one fell stroke. And in a sense, Zuko supposed, that was true.

The realization made him even angrier at himself, and he grit his teeth. "Yell at me, Damnit!" he exclaimed, grabbing Katara by her shoulders and shaking her roughly. Her head lolled limply, as though she didn't have the faculties to hold it straight.

He heard a murmur of disapproval somewhere to his right, and he turned to see that Kin was pinning a glare on him. Rebuked, the boy stepped backwards and Katara fell limply against the cushions. Zuko let out a shuddering sigh and ran trembling fingers through his shaggy hair.

"Damn it, Katara," Zuko grumbled, shaking his head, and wrenching his gaze from her limp, broken form. And then Kin was at her mistress' side, a calloused palm pressed against Katara's young cheek.

"I think it is time you leave, your highness," the aging woman said, her voice bearing the edge of steel. "You've upset her enough already," she added, turning back to her mistress with a worried frown covering her features.

"I've upset her?" Zuko demanded, the anger getting the better of him. "How could I upset her? She doesn't even feel anything!" he shouted, the frustration and pain he had felt over the past few weeks rising to the surface.

"Get out," Kin said lowly, pointing towards the door. Zuko leveled a glare at the woman, and Kin's face flushed in anger. "It is only because of your dear, sweet mother's memory that I haven't struck you yet, but so help me young man…"

"That is _my_ wife, and this is _my_ home and you are under _my _command. Don't think that your former position as my mother's maid will entitle you to any privileges. I am a Prince of the Fire Nation, and I will be treated as such!" Zuko exclaimed, his anger consuming him and driving away all rational thought.

Kin shook her head and chuckled darkly. "I never thought that Ursa's sweet little boy could turn out as heartless as his father." She glanced over Zuko once and then looked pointedly back to where Katara sat slouched and lifeless. "I was wrong."

Zuko stared and Kin for one long, terrible moment and felt his insides freeze over with horror at her words. _I am nothing like him!_ Zuko wanted to scream, but he found that his voice refused to cooperate with him as the words he had spoken earlier played over and over again in his mind. Kim was right; he had sounded exactly like his father.

Horrorstruck, Zuko stumbled backwards, unable to find the words to explain his behavior. Zuko fled the room, unable to face Kin's unwavering stare and Katara's silent condemnation.

--

"Zuko!" Iroh called, and Zuko lifted his eyes from the scrolls surrounding him to his Uncle's gaze. He read the anger there, and he heaved out a harsh sigh.

"Kin spoke to you, didn't she?" Zuko asked, and then rubbed his temples with long fingers. "Listen, Uncle…"

"No, Zuko, you listen to me," Iroh demanded, and Zuko glanced up at his uncle in surprise. "Every time you go see her, Katara withdraws more and more into herself. She's regressed so far over these past few days… "

"What exactly are you saying, Uncle?" Zuko demanded, and Iroh cleared his throat.

"I'm forbidding you from seeing her," Iroh said, and his words fell heavily between the two men. Zuko dropped his hands down on his desk, and his mouth dropped open. His Uncle met his gaze steadily, and Zuko swallowed hard.

"What? No. You can't do that!"

Iroh sighed and shook his head. "You're right, Zuko. I can't. But you have to realize that if you want Katara to get well again, you are going to have to do something. And in this case, that something is staying away from her long enough for her to recover. Maybe… maybe once she's healed things will be right between you again…but until that time…"

"You're asking too much of me," Zuko replied, his voice strangled.

Iroh sighed and shook his head. "No, Zuko. I'm asking you to do what is right," Iroh replied, and Zuko glanced downwards. Iroh then sighed and turned to leave. "Please, Zuko," he said just before departing.

Zuko let out a shuddering breath after his uncle had gone and then buried his head in his hands. _How could he ask me to stay away from her? How could he think that it's me that's making her worse? _

Zuko thought back to his time with Katara and allowed memory after memory to wash over him. He remembered the night of their first kiss- a lifetime ago, as they had sat before the fire together.

_Katara reached her hand up to cup his unscarred cheek. "You can tell me anything, you know. No matter how bad it is, I won't hate you," she promised, and she meant every word._

_Zuko turned to her, and blue eyes met gold. For the briefest of moments, their situation seemed so unbearably familiar, although she couldn't quite place why. Zuko chuckled softly, and then shook his head, breaking the spell. "You'd be surprised," he replied quietly._

"_Listen to me," she said softly, and then cupped both of his cheeks with her hands and applied gentle pressure so that he was meeting her eyes once more. "No matter what you do, Zuko, I could never hate you," she said, her voice low but filled with conviction._

The words that Katara had spoken to him rose up in his memory, and Zuko swallowed hard. She had promised him…she'd sworn that she would never hate him. So his uncle must have been wrong. It couldn't be him that was driving Katara down into the furthest recesses of her mind. When Zuko thought back over their time together, he realized that it was usually he that drove her out of her shell. He was the one who had always been to ignite the flame within her and make her burn with anger or passion.

"_I've never seen a volcano before," Katara admitted as they walked. "I'm not sure if I ever want to get near one," she continued. "From what I've heard, they destroy everything in their paths when they erupt."_

_A muscle in Zuko's jaw clenched. "Fire tends to do that," he muttered darkly._

_Katara's breath hitched in her throat as she glanced over at the fire bender, and saw the lines on his forehead. Lines that belonged on the visage of an older man, and looked out of place on his young face. "You know, it's very easy to freeze in the South Pole," she said softly after several heartbeats, looking directly ahead of her as she walked. "The temperature drops quickly, and death is common in the young and the elderly." She paused, and then gently rested her hand on his forearm. "Without the fire, we would all die. Fire is what saves us."_

Zuko raised his head from his hands and swallowed hard. Maybe that was it. Maybe all it was that kept Katara from feeling was the lack of fire in her soul. _Fire is what saves us_, she had said. Perhaps instilling a flicker of passion within her would cause her to feel again. After all, it was the passion Katara felt towards her daughter that had woken her from her stupor before. If he could just somehow duplicate the process…

Zuko was on his feet and on his way towards Katara's suite even before his plan had a chance to form in his mind. He was simply filled with the all consuming urge to restore Katara to herself- to show her just how much he loved and needed her.

When Zuko swung the doors open to Katara's chambers, Kin stared hard and long at him, her hands folded across her chest. "Get out," Zuko murmured, staring past the aging woman to where his wife sat, still and unresponsive. "Please," Zuko added, looking back to Kin with pleading etched into his features.

Kin met his gaze with a steely one of her own, and swiftly shook her head. "No. I will not leave you alone with her. Zuko, you have no idea how much she stands to lose if…"

"Don't make me call the guard," Zuko replied quickly, effectively cutting her off. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest, and he could feel his palms beginning to sweat. "I won't hurt her…I promise."

"You wouldn't hurt her intentionally, I'm sure, but…"

"Kin! Please," Zuko pleaded, and Kin stubbornly shook her head.

"I absolutely refuse to leave you alone with her. Believe me, Zuko, it is for your own good. For the good of the both of you…"

"Guard!" Zuko called. He was breathing quickly…everything seemed to be moving through a haze. He had a purpose now, and damnit to hell, he was going to see this through. Katara would feel again. She would open those big blue eyes of hers and she would see him; she would speak, and laugh, and play, and cry… she would no longer be the doll that she had become.

Zuko barely heard Kin's protests as the guard forcibly dragged her from Katara's bedchambers and locked the woman in the adjoining room. All of his attention was focused on Katara…lovely, lifeless Katara. In three quick strides he was by her side, and with one smooth motion, she was in his arms.

"Please, Katara. Please wake up," Zuko pleaded, and then he pressed his warm lips to her cold, unresponsive ones. He had to hold the back of her head with his hand to keep it from lolling backwards, but that didn't deter him. She would wake up… she _had_ to.

Barely conscious of what he was doing, Zuko had lifted Katara into his arms and carried her over to her bed, kissing the flesh of her jaw, her neck, her throat. And then his hands were everywhere- trying to warm her, desperate to make her feel once more.

--

_Katara laughed, the water sloshing about them as Zuko carried her over to the shore. "What sort of monster have I created?" he teased; a grin on his face and a gleam in his eye that Katara had not yet gotten used to. _

_Instead of speaking, Katara pressed her lips against his and twined her fingers within the young man's hair. Zuko responded instantaneously, his lips moving over hers in an almost frenzied passion. She opened her mouth for him the moment that his tongue pressed against her lips, and Zuko's mind reeled with the heady sensation. _

_His hands were everywhere: her face, her shoulder blades, her thigh. And then his lips tore from hers and went to her chin, over her jaw line, down the column of her throat. Katara arched her back so that her entire body was flush against his, and her breath came in short, soft gasps. "I think…" she began, and took another breath. "I think I'm the one who created the monster," she managed, and Zuko bit down on her earlobe. _

"_Maybe," he breathed, and the word came out more sensual than Katara had thought possible. His breathing was ragged in her ear, and Katara ran her fingertips down his sides and then back up his spine. She felt Zuko shudder under her touch, and a smile curved its way over her lips. _

_And then he was stumbling towards the shore once again, his legs barely cooperating with him. When he tripped, he rolled over so that he took the brunt of the fall, and Katara landed unharmed against him. But then her thighs were on either side of him, and her face was only inches away from his._

"_Another time," Zuko murmured before he flipped them over, his weight resting on his hands as he stared down into the woman's face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. Zuko smiled, and Katara scowled before wrapping her legs around his waist and claiming his lips with her own. _

_When he began to move within her, however, Katara threw her head back and allowed her husband to take the lead. He moved quickly, gentleness forgotten in the height of passion. When the pivotal moment finally arrived, Katara's eyes screwed shut as she called out his name…_

"Zuko!" The name reverberated around her skull, but Katara couldn't concentrate on why that was. Her heart was pounding fiercely, her breath coming in short gasps. She went to move her arm, but her limbs refused to cooperate with her. Soon after, a heady, contented feeling flooded her, and Katara couldn't bring herself to move. But then she felt something move against her, and the sensation fled.

Katara opened her eyes.

Zuko was trembling above her, his body slick with sweat and his black hair plastered to his face. His arms were on either side of her shoulders, his chest heaving as he took in shuddering breaths. Katara said nothing as she stared up into his face, big blue eyes boring into his molten gold ones. Silence descended over them, both unwilling to be the first to speak.

At long last, Zuko shifted his weight and caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "Katara?" the man murmured, his voice sounding at once choked and hopeful.

With that one touch, Katara began to _feel. _The numbness of the past month washed away, leaving her emotions raw and naked. Katara shuddered beneath Zuko's touch, and her breath caught in her throat. "No," she murmured, almost to herself. She didn't want to feel anything; if she felt, her world went dark. When she felt, all she could see was Aang falling…falling… his body blackened with Zuko's fire.

"No!" the girl wailed, squeezing her eyes closed and bringing her hands up to her mouth to keep herself from vomiting against the images that played themselves over and over again in her memory. The blistered skin of Aang's arms sloughing off when she had pulled him into her lap; the look in Zuko's eyes as the Eclipse had passed…the smile on Ozai's face when her friend had fallen.

Zuko's lips were on her face, kissing away her tears, but her stomach turned at the attention he paid her. "I love you…please don't cry…I love you…" he kept murmuring in her ear, but Katara shook her head as her body convulsed.

"No! No…no…" It seemed to be the only word that she was capable of saying, but she couldn't wrap her brain around anything more articulate. She preferred the numbness and the darkness to this. She didn't want to live; didn't want her emotions to overcome her again.

"No…" she whimpered when Zuko brushed a kiss across her temple, his touch infinitely tender. But the same hands that were holding her against him had murdered an innocent child. The hands that were capable of such tenderness were those of a cold blooded killer.

"I'm sorry, Tara…I'm so sorry," Zuko was whispering. They were sitting up now, and she realized that he had pulled her into his lap. The sensation of his naked flesh against hers was revolting, for she kept seeing Aang's charred and blackened skin; kept reliving the horror of that day.

Katara thrashed, desperate to get out of the Fire Nation Prince's embrace. His arms tightened like a vice around her, and Katara's movements became even more desperate. "Get away from me!" she finally shouted, managing to land a blow on his jaw. "Get away!"

"Katara…" there his voice came again; far too calm, far too reasoning. It should be full of torment after what he'd done. He should sound like he wanted to die. His voice should reflect the ache in her heart.

"I hate you!" she finally screamed, and his arms went slack around her. Free from his constricting embrace, Katara rolled to the farthest edge of the bed and buried her face in her pillow. "I hate you… I hate you…" she continued to murmur as she wept, and Zuko merely sat, stunned.

It felt as though his heart had been torn in half within his body, and he had to take deep breaths to stave off the pain. "You don't mean that," Zuko whispered, reaching over to her and gently touching her shoulder. Her muscles spasmed under his touch, and the sound of her weeping grew in volume. "Katara…"

This time, the girl said nothing. Instead, she merely continued to weep, her shoulders shuddering with every breath that she took. Zuko withdrew his hand and stared at the girl's defeated form, his own shoulders slumping. "Fine," he finally muttered, summoning anger to drown away the hurt. "Have it your way," he muttered, throwing his legs off the side of the bed and dressing hastily.

When he stormed out of the room, he didn't even bother to look back. He knew what he would find: a broken child weeping… weeping over her husband's touch. He had fulfilled his goal- he had made her feel. Now, Zuko wished he had never attempted to do such a thing. He wished that he had left her as the doll-woman that she had become, for even that was preferable to the torment that the both of them were going through now.

"See to her," Zuko commanded to his wife's lady's maid, who had stood outside the door the entire time he had been within. That said, he hurried down the hall, desperate to rid the sound of her weeping from his ears.

But even when he was ensconced in the walls of his room, her wails echoed through his mind.

"_I promise you Zuko…no matter what you do, I will never hate you."_

She had lied.

--

"Once, a long time ago, the Yang family had a girl, hidden from the world, growing up in beauty and grace and favored by heaven. On a cool day in spring, as she rose fresh from the flower strewn pool with the warm water running down her silk smooth body. The Fire Lord saw her languorous figure supported by her attendants and felt a heady desire come upon him…"

"What, by Agni, are you reading to my daughter?" Zuko demanded as he stormed into his uncle's private chambers. Iroh blinked once as he glanced from the little girl on his knee to his nephew, and down to the scroll that he held. The old man raised his brows and cleared his throat.

"Never before had a woman caused such heat to flood his veins. Never before had the well of words within his soul run so dry as they did when he gazed upon the creamy expanse of the woman's soft, full…"

"Uncle!" Zuko exclaimed, mortified, his good ear pinking. "I will not have you read such…rubbish with Nozomi in your presence! What you do when you are alone is your business…" Zuko trailed off and then winced at the image that sprang into his mind. "But do _not_ let me hear you reading that trash to her again!"

"Come now, Zuko," Iroh defended himself, lightly bouncing the little girl on his lap. "Don't you know poetry when you hear it? Why, when you were a boy, I read such things to you…"

Zuko blanched, and then swiftly lifted Nozomi from his uncle's grasp. "Well, that's just… just…" Zuko trailed off, flustered, before he let out a noise of disgust.

"Oh, come now, Zuko. You loved them. Why, you even repeated the stories after me." Iroh chuckled. "I always knew you were a hot blooded young man," he added with a wink, and Zuko swallowed hard.

Zuko made a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he bounced the now fussing Nozomi on his hip. His gaze landed on the scroll, and his cheeks flushed further at the erotic brush strokes upon it. "Put that away, will you?" Zuko demanded hotly, and Iroh heaved out a sigh. The old man then pushed himself to his feet and reluctantly placed the offending item on his desk.

"Honestly, Uncle!" Zuko continued to rail, bouncing Nozomi on his hip. "What were you…"

"Why are you here, Zuko?" Iroh interrupted his nephew, the teasing note gone from his voice. His eyes had suddenly gone cold and sharp and calculating, and Zuko swallowed hard against the shame that suddenly swelled within his breast. Nozomi fisted her small hands in her father's tunic, her little features contorted into a frown of concentration.

As though the child felt his gaze upon her, Nozomi glanced upwards with a toothy grin. "Da!" she exclaimed, removing one fist from her father's shirt in order to stuff her thumb into her mouth.

Belatedly, Zuko remembered that what he had come to discuss with his uncle wasn't a conversation for a child's ears/ "Guard!" Zuko shouted, and a heavily armored man hurried into the room. "Take the princess back to her nursemaid," he commanded. The guard bowed quickly, and did as Zuko had bid.

Once the door had closed behind the armored man, Zuko turned back to his uncle. The man had his arms crossed over his ample girth, and his dark eyes were clouded. "I need a favor from you," Zuko finally managed when the silence had become far too thick, far too condemning.

"A favor?" Iroh replied, the incredulity in his tone only thinly masked.

Zuko shifted to his other foot and then cleared his throat. "Will you take Nozomi to Katara? Father has expressly forbidden me from bringing the child, but perhaps if it was you… well…" Zuko trailed off, and winced when his Uncle's all too knowing gaze bore into his own.

"Why now, Zuko? Surely you could have come to me about this earlier," Iroh pointed out, and Zuko found that he could not meet his uncle's gaze. Iroh noted his nephew's discomfort and his face hardened. "What did you do?" he asked, and this time, he spoke with a dangerous quality in his tone.

When Zuko remained silent, Iroh smashed his fist down on his desk in an uncharacteristic display of anger. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from her, Zuko? What, by Agni, did you do now? Isn't enough that your betrayal ended with the deaths of her father, her brother and her best friend? Not to mention the fact that you killed a child… a _child_ in front of her! Haven't you hurt her enough?"

"Enough!" Zuko shouted hoarsely, stumbling over to a chair. "Believe me, Uncle, when I tell you I don't need to be reminded of the things that I have done." Zuko rested his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. "I remember them all too well." Zuko took a deep shuddering breath, and ignored the weight of his uncle's stare.

At the sight of his nephew hunched over brokenly, Iroh felt his anger begin to drain away. A part of him- the part that had comforted the boy the night his father had destroyed his face- longed to rush over and crush the broken young man in his arms. But another part, a larger part, needed to stand back, to let the young man suffer.

"Sokka was… he was like a brother to me." The sound of his nephew's voice surprised him, and Iroh found himself taking a step closer. "We didn't get along at first, and because of Katara things were always a little strained, but… I always knew I had a guy there for me." There was another long pause, and then, "Toph…" A chuckle, "Toph was just… she…" Zuko trailed off, and laughed again, the sound coming out twisted and distorted. "And A-Aang… He was so strong for being just a kid. He trusted me….believed in me."

"And then there was Katara. She was just… so beautiful, and kind, and honest, and…everything that I wasn't. But she didn't care. She was the first person who didn't look at me with pity the first time she saw me. She knew I was a liar, and she knew I had a temper, but she was always just…so…forgiving. She told me I was honorable… She knew who I was; she knew everything I had done, and still…she still…she loved me."

Iroh could hear the waver in Zuko's voice; knew just how difficult it was for the young man not to dissolve into tears. "They became the family I never had," Zuko continued after a long pause, his voice shaking. "I was willing to die for them. I honestly was. But when she threatened to kill them if I didn't obey her, I couldn't…I couldn't…"

There was another long pause, and Iroh could feel a stirring in his heart towards the defeated young man. "It wasn't supposed to end this way!" Zuko exclaimed suddenly, and Iroh jumped. "Azula promised that she wouldn't hurt them. She promised…"  
_Azula always lies,_ the old general thought, but did not say aloud.

"Every time that its quiet…every time that I have time to myself, all I can see is the look on Aang's face when I killed him. I didn't want to, Uncle! I didn't!" Now Zuko was making no attempt to conceal his sobs. Instead, he wept openly, allowing the awful noise of it to fill the room. "But they had 'Tara, and they were going to kill her! And they had Nimi too, and Azula was going to…she… I couldn't let it happen, Uncle. I couldn't!"

Zuko sobs tore through the still air and struck a chord deep in Iroh's heart. Iroh heaved out a deep sigh, unable to hold onto his anger in light of his nephew's suffering. Slowly, he made his way over to the boy he had once claimed as his own and rested his hand on Zuko's heaving shoulder.

"You must know how it feels, Uncle," Zuko managed through his tears when Iroh was beside him. "To love a woman so much that you will do anything… _anything_ to be with her."

While the boy continued to sob, Iroh found his mind drawn back to a different world, a different time. A time when a long haired beauty rested in his arms, her lips brushing against his neck with every breath that she took. A time when all their moments together occurred under the cover of darkness; when their time together was limited to hidden smiles, forbidden touches, and trysts in the garden.

Yes, Iroh knew what it was to love a woman so much that he was willing to do anything to be with her… even if it meant betraying his brother's trust and breaking Ozai's already damaged heart.

Instead of speaking of his knowledge, Iroh instead squeezed his nephew's shoulder that much harder. "I will take Nozomi to her mother," Iroh said after a long time of silence. He would not ask again what Zuko had done to Katara… the boy was hurting far too much to realize what pain he inflicted on others.

--

**A/N:** Sorry about the wait, guys. I couldn't bring myself to continue the depressing nature of this story for a while. Now, the pain of my recent surgery is enabling me to connect with my darker side yet again.

Anyhew... Please review. Thanks so much!

-SE


	6. Chapter 5

Sokka's lips thinned as he spread the parchment out over the fur covered block of ice that served as the table in the newly constructed war room. The room itself was not all that impressive, Sokka knew, but it was what it stood for that gave his people a sudden surge of hope. Erecting a war room meant that the Southern Water Tribe would fight back against the tyranny of the Fire Nation; that the proud people would not accept defeat. It offered the tribes people hope, and Spirits knew that hope was needed in a time of war.

"Signing that treaty could be the death of us," a broad-chested, square jawed man said, pointing to the parchment that Sokka had just laid out. "If the Fire Nation learns of this…"

"And how long are we to cower in the shadow of the Fire Nation?" Beno demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting the elder man's gaze fiercely. "We have led our lives in fear of them…"

"And for good reason!" Ohtli returned, a muscle in his jaw locking. "They have more power than we could ever hope to accrue, or have you not realized that yet? I have been fighting this war since long before you were born, boy. Our chances of survival are slim to none as it is, and if we sign this agreement our destruction is assured."

"But if we do not sign, are we not in an equally dismal situation?" Shui, a middle aged man with a full beard, asked pointedly. "If the Fire Nation attacks us again, we will not have the manpower to defend ourselves. We will be slaughtered!"

"What is there to attack?" Ohtli demanded hotly. "Our numbers have been decimated; this village is barely even a spec on the map! If we avoid confrontation, the Fire Nation will leave us in peace!"

The men gathered erupted into sound at that point, arguing their beliefs and ideas. Each of their words rolled into the others so that their voices became indistinguishable from one another's. Sokka stood with his fists clenched at his sides as he watched his men fight bitterly amongst each other, and he felt the stirrings of anger begin within him.

"We must face reality!" Sokka exclaimed after a short time, his voice filled with the authority of a man twice his age. Slowly, the din died down and the men assembled fell silent as their young Chieftain began to speak.

"You say that we are insignificant; barely a spot on the map," Sokka said, his gaze flickering over Ohtli and the group of men assembled around him. "And this is true." Ohtli made a smug noise, and the voices began to pick up once more. "However…" Sokka said, raising his hands, and the room fell silent once more. "However, many of the lands that the Air Nomads occupied were also seemingly insignificant.

"Yes, it is true that Avatar Aang has passed on, but the next Avatar will soon be born to the people of the Water Tribes. The rebirth of the Avatar could possibly spell out the Fire Nation's destruction. Ozai and his children know this just as well as we do, and they are ruthless."

He paused for a moment, allowing the men in the war chamber to realize the significance of his words. "Do you remember the genocide of Air Nomads? Like Sozin before them, the Royal Family will wipe out our people in an attempt to kill the Avatar. Signing this treaty is not merely a strategy of war!" Sokka exclaimed, his eyes roving about the room. "Signing this treaty is a means of protecting our wives and children from the brutality of the Fire Nation!"

At this, several men in the room erupted into cheers for the young chieftain. Ohtli, however, remained unimpressed. "And what would you know of wives and children, Chief Sokka?" he demanded, and the room fell quiet once more. "Are you married?"

"No, although I will be soon," Sokka replied somewhat coldly, his eyes narrowing.

"And do you have children of your own?"

"Not just yet, however…"

"So you see!" Ohtli exclaimed, turning away from Sokka and towards the rest of his tribesmen. "He himself has no vested interest in what will happen to our people. Signing this treaty is merely a personal vendetta for him!" he exclaimed. Sokka's blood ran cold when several of his men voiced their agreement. "It is due to his own naivety that the bloodthirsty son of the Fire Lord was able to slaughter the avatar! It is 'Chief' Sokka's quest for revenge and nothing more that motivates him!"

Several more men added their voices to Ohtli's and Sokka clenched his fists at his sides. "Yes, I was naïve," Sokka exclaimed, and waited for the din to quiet before he continued. "And yes, it was due to my miscalculations that Avatar Aang fell. But do not mistake me; I do not merely wish to sign a treaty with our sister tribe out of a misplaced desire for vengeance. Because of this war, I have lost my father, my sister, and my dearest friends. I will not allow another to die in a circumstance that I could have prevented! That is why I believe we must sign this pact!"

A general noise of agreement rose from the war room, and Beno stepped forward. "I agree with Chief Sokka!" he exclaimed, and most of the other Water Tribe warriors punched their fists up in the air as they voiced their agreement. Ohtli remained off to the side, his blue eyes smoldering with anger and wounded pride and his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Sokka met the older man's eyes and allowed the faintest trace of a smirk to touch his lips. _I've won this round._

--

"Every step of the way, he's right there! Always watching me, always waiting for me to fail. He constantly tries to undermine my authority…" Sokka exclaimed once encased within the icy walls of his igloo, Suki at his side.

"Your gloves are soaking wet. Take them off before they shrink," Suki replied dryly, and Sokka muttered under his breath as he hastily did as she bid him. He tossed the articles towards her, and the Kyoshi warrior caught them with a roll of her eyes before laying them out before the fire to dry.

"We're supposed to band together now, not pull apart!" Sokka continued ranting, practically ignoring his betrothed. "Just today a message arrived from the Northern Water Tribe. They were very generous in their proposal- they promised to send us waterbenders to better defend and help rebuild our village, and they also offered us a promise of protection if we were ever attacked. In addition to that, they would re-open the trade routes that existed between us one hundred years ago! It is the perfect opportunity for us!

"But no, Ohtli had to make it seem as though signing the treaty would be my personal form of revenge against Zuko!" Sokka spat the Fire Nation prince's name out as though it was a curse, and Suki had to repress the urge to wince.

"There had to be a reason," Suki observed calmly, and Sokka turned to her, his face flushing with anger. "Now before you go flying off the handle, listen to me," Suki said, and Sokka reluctantly complied. "Every good leader learns from the criticisms of the men beneath him. Something that Ohtli said must have merit. Now, is there a reason that signing a treaty with the Northern Water Tribe could appear to be an act of vengeance?"

Sokka said nothing for a moment, and then he sank down onto a pile of furs. "In a way…" he admitted, and Suki raised a brow. Sokka heaved out a sigh, and then ran a calloused hand over his face. "Technically speaking, signing a treaty with the Northern Water Tribe is equivalent to declaring war on the Fire Nation."

Suki made a noise in the back of her throat and raised a brow. "So Ohtli did have a point after all," she said softly, almost as though she was speaking to herself. Sokka glared up at her from between his fingers before he dropped his head back down and massaged his aching temples.

Suki watched Sokka for several moments, and then let out a sigh as she perched herself on his lap. On instinct, Sokka's arms went around her hips, and Suki rested her hands on his shoulders. "Sokka… are you sure that this has nothing to do with revenge?" she asked softly, gently running the back of her hand against her intended's jaw line.

Sokka stiffened immediately at the comment and removed his arms from Suki's waist. "You too?" he demanded, his gaze suddenly gone stony. "I would have thought you knew me better," he muttered.

Suki sighed harshly and planted her palms on either side of Sokka's face. "I do know you, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe," she replied, her voice strong. "And I know better than anyone else what Zuko did to your family. Essentially, he killed your father, and both took your sister's honor and broke her heart. If nothing else, you are a man who is fueled by the desire to defend your family. In your eyes, Zuko cannot go unpunished." Suki paused, and her lips turned up into a humorless smile when she saw that Sokka could not meet her eyes. "Am I right?"

"You're too smart for your own good," Sokka muttered under his breath, and Suki chuckled before she leaned down and tenderly kissed his forehead. "I still don't understand how he fooled us," Sokka mumbled when she had pulled away. "Me, you, Iroh, Katara, Aang…even Toph. How could Zuko have been acting all that time?"

"Maybe he wasn't acting, at least not all the time," Suki replied softly. "He may have planned to betray us in the beginning, but then…" she sighed and shook her head. "He loved Katara; that much was obvious. He shielded her from lightning with his own body, for Kyoshi's sake. I think maybe his love for made him reconsider what he was doing." She paused for a moment, and then furrowed her brow. "Or maybe he did it because of his love for her," she mused, and Sokka scoffed.

"He was a selfish bastard," he spat out, his blue eyes dark and stormy. "He betrayed us so he that he could have power. He isn't capable of love; at least not the kind of love that Katara deserves."

"Probably not," Suki conceded, and then brushed her knuckles across Sokka's chiseled features. "But he wasn't exactly raised in the healthiest of environments. His perception of relationships is probably so skewed that he doesn't understand half of the things that he does to the people around him."

"Oh, he understands alright. He's a sadistic bastard that feeds off of everyone else's pain…just like his father. He needs to be brought to his knees; he needs to suffer just like he's made everyone else suffer!" Sokka spat, his features set into a scowl.

Suki shook her head. "Sokka, don't you think he's already suffering? Zuko is… a very complicated person, to say in the least. But if he cared for any of us even the slightest bit, if he has only a single shred of a conscience, he is in an incredible amount of pain. I don't think you could make him suffer much more than he already is."

Sokka stared at Suki for a long moment before he chuckled darkly and shook his head. "Katara would have said something like that," he noted. "That damn girl was always so busy seeing the good in people that she never had time to prepare herself for the bad. Always forgiving, always giving second chances…"

"I think that is one of her best qualities," Suki interrupted him, and Sokka sighed.

"If she wasn't so optimistic, none of this would have ever happened."

"If she wasn't so optimistic, I would be dead," Suki replied, her voice both calm and filled with surety. Sokka froze for a second, and then stared up into Suki's face. "I'm not stupid, Sokka. I know how close to death I was when she found me. But she believed that I would heal, and it is because of the strength of her belief that I am here with you today. And I know that I'm not the only one whose life she's touched.

"Think of how many people she's helped since she left the South Pole last year. Just in the short time that I've been traveling you, she saved not only my life but the lives of my fellow warriors, she healed Zuko, adopted the child of a woman she barely knew… and in addition to that, she was always willing to listen to everyone's problems, even though she carried her fair share of burdens.

"Your sister is an amazing young woman, Sokka. And if she rubbed off on me, even a little bit…well… I suppose I'm proud."

Sokka stared down at his hands for several moments, and when he looked up at Suki again, there was fire in his eyes. "And that is why Zuko needs to suffer… and why I need to bring her home."

--

Katara ran her fingers over the shimmering blue silk of the garment, her lip trembling as she attempted to control her emotions. Kin bowed her head slightly in respect, and then removed the robe from the mahogany box it had been sent in. Lian and Jia rushed forwards and took it from the head lady's maid, lifting it up so that their mistress could inspect it.

It was beautiful, Katara had to admit. The deep blue silk had been embroidered with golden thread in an intricate, swirling pattern that only enhanced the beauty of the fabric. The sleeveless gown would fall from bust to floor, and it sparkled in the sunlight. A sheer, golden jacket that would be cinched at the waist over the dress was draped over Kin's arm.

"He sent these as well," Kin said, crossing to the vanity and lifting a black lacquered box. Inlaid mother of pearl dragons chased each other across the lid, and their eyes of ruby and sapphire caught the light. Kin then lifted the lid to reveal a host of golden trinkets. Katara stared at it for a moment, her throat closing.

"All of this?" she asked softly, her voice thick and heavy. Kin nodded, and Katara took the box from her handmaid's outstretched hands before crossing over to the vanity. She rested the box on the gleaming surface of the wood, and swallowed hard as she lifted the trinkets out one by one.

The first was a hairpin in the shape of a fire lily, whose golden petals were inlaid with amber and onyx. Katara blinked several times before swallowing hard and setting the hairpin aside. The next object that she lifted was a long, golden hair stick with beads of opal and jade dangling from one end. Eventually, that too was set aside. Out of the small box came a host of golden bangles, some plain, some set with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. A myriad of rings were placed on the vanity as well. Like the bangles, the rings also ranged from the plain to the elaborate.

It was the last piece of jewelry that she removed, however, that sent a stab of pain straight through her heart. The piece had been wrapped in a scarf of red silk, and a note bearing Zuko's sharp yet elegant script had been pinned to the fabric. With trembling fingers, Katara unpinned the note and lifted it so that she could read the message.

_I know it is tradition in your tribe for you to be given this upon your betrothal, and I apologize that I did not have it for you then. Please accept it now. _

Hands shaking, Katara unwrapped the small parcel and lifted a pendant into her hand. It was stunning, suspended on a chain long enough for it to be hidden beneath her clothing, but beautiful enough to keep her from tucking it between her breasts. A swirling pattern of golden birds and dragons surrounded a stone so magnificently blue that Katara had to catch her breath. It had appeared to be navy at first glance, but every time Katara turned it, blue fire would dance within. She had never seen anything quite so mesmerizing in all her life.

"A sapphire," Kin explained when she saw her Lady's wonder, and Katara nodded her head before setting the pendant down on her vanity.

Katara was silent for several moments, staring down at the gold pieces that now littered the wooden surface of her vanity. Never in her life had she seen so much gold in one place; never before had she owned even one piece that had been nearly half as beautiful as any of the trinkets Zuko had sent. Yet somehow, the gifts meant nothing to her. They were cold things, empty and lifeless.

"Does he honestly think that this will make up for what he did?" she asked hoarsely, turning away from the gifts and gesturing for Lian and Jia to place the dress back in its place.

Kin carefully placed the pieces of jewelry back in the lacquered box and sighed softly. "He loves you, Lady," she said in response. "He may not know how to show it, but he does try."

"And him raping me is supposed to endear him to me?" Katara demanded, tears stinging the back of her eyes despite her resolve not to weep. Kin placed the lacquered box in one of the drawers of the vanity before she turned and rested her hand on her lady's arm.

"No one will ever be able to excuse what he did to you. Any of it," Kin replied gently, and then gestured to the drawer that she had just placed the trinkets in. "But he is trying to make amends."

"Those mean nothing to me!" Katara said with a shudder. "If he wants my forgiveness, he has to bring me my daughter!" she exclaimed, folding her arms across her chest.

Kin sighed and closed her eyes. Like Katara, she was furious with the Crown Prince. It was difficult enough to defend him once, and she couldn't bring herself to do so again. "Lady…" she began, and Katara scowled.

"Stop calling me that," Katara replied, and then let out a long sigh, the fight gone out of her. "I'm nobody's lady. I'm just a peasant girl from the South Pole."

"According to the prince, you are the daughter of a chief."

Katara swallowed hard, and then stared out the window. "Was. I _was_ the daughter of a chief." She paused for a long while, forcing back the urge to weep. "But a chief of an insignificant tribe. Members of the peasantry here in the Fire Nation lead more privileged lives than I ever did."

Kin sighed and then reached forwards and patted the young Water Tribe woman's hand. "Your humility is endearing. And I will continue to call you Lady, for I love you and respect you in the manner that a loyal servant loves her mistress."

Katara shook her head and then turned away. "Stubborn," she mumbled under her breath, and the older woman lifted a brow. However, Kin chose to say nothing when she noted the troubled frown that was painted onto her mistress' features.

"Miss Katara!" Iroh's cheerful voice pierced the silence of the room, and Katara turned towards the voice. What she saw made her face break into a now rare smile that stretched from one ear to the other. Iroh entered the room with a tray of sweets balanced in one hand, and a little girl in pink resting on his hip.

"Nozomi," Katara breathed, and then she was stumbling forwards, her arms outstretched. And then moments later, Nozomi was wrapped in her mother's warm embrace, and the peals of the child's laughter filled the room. Somehow, Katara made her way over to the couch without loosening her hold of her daughter.

Katara buried her head in the crook of Nozomi's neck and inhaled the child's scent. "I'm never going to let you go," she whispered harshly as she held the child close against her, relishing the warmth that the little girl brought to both her arms and her heart.

Ever since she had woken from her stupor, Katara had felt hollow and cold. No matter how many blankets her maids had piled upon her, or how much tea Iroh had given her, she had shivered uncontrollably. It wasn't until Iroh had entered her room and placed her daughter in her arms that the void had been filled and the shaking had ceased.

Katara sniffed back tears as she ran a trembling hand over the child's soft nest of dark curls and planted a kiss on the child's pale and rosy cheek. "Mama missed you," she murmured softly into the little girl's ear, and then kissed the child again. "Has Uncle Iroh been taking good care of you while you were away?" she asked softly, and the little girl patted her hands against her mother's cheeks.

"Mama!" she exclaimed, delighted with herself. She then reached up and tugged on one of Katara's brown curls with a toothy grin.

"I'll take that as a yes," Katara replied with a soft laugh as she tucked the strand of hair behind her ear and out of Nozomi's reach.

The little girl frowned at her mother's reaction, and pushed out her lip into a pout. "Damn," she said, and Katara's brose shot straight into her hairline.

"She has a…colorful vocabulary, does she not?" Iroh said with a chuckle from where he sat beside Katara. The young woman pinned a glare on him, clearly not amused.

"That is a bad word, young lady," Katara said as sternly as she could manage, although she found it difficult to conjure an angry expression when she looked into the face of the child that she loved.

"Dada say damn," the little girl replied, patting her mother's cheeks again.

Katara covered the child's hands with her own as she let out a sigh. "Figures," she said sadly under her breath, and Iroh reached over and patted her knee. "Daddy does a lot of bad things," Katara said, her stomach clenching as she referred to Zuko as Nozomi's father. The title seemed too good for him, somehow. A man who could commit such atrocities shouldn't have had the privilege to hold a child in his arms. "But that doesn't mean that you're allowed to do them too," she finished, staring into the grayish, almond shaped eyes of her daughter's. _Eyes like Aang's._

Katara felt bile rise at the back of her throat when she thought of the child she had come to love as her brother, and she swallowed hard against the pain. Would it always be like this? Would every little thing she saw remind her of that awful day? Would she ever be able to forget?

"Mama?" Nozomi asked, leaning her little face close against her mother's. Her little face was squished up in concern, and Katara shook her head to rid herself of the dark thoughts that plagued her.

"Mama's okay, _Anana_," Katara murmured, and then kissed her child's palm.

"_Anana_?" Iroh asked from beside her, and Katara smiled softly.

"It means 'beautiful one' in my language," she replied, although she never removed her eyes from her daughter. "And you are the single most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Katara then added with a rare smile as she pulled her little girl flush against her again.

The child squirmed against her, and Katara sighed before setting the girl at arm's length. "Independent, aren't you?" she asked, somewhat sadly. The child garbled out some nonsense understood only by her, and then clapped her hands together.

Another smile rested upon Katara's lips as she watched her child's actions, but the expression was older than it once was; wiser and sadder. "How old do you think she is?" Katara asked Iroh, and the man frowned as he observed the little girl.

"I would guess anywhere from sixteen to eighteen months. She's got some of her molars in, and one of her canines is poking through," Iroh noted, and Katara tipped the child's head back in order to see into her mouth. "Plus, she's able to walk without holding my hands. Those are all new things for that age range," Iroh explained, and Katara swallowed hard.

"She didn't have this last time I saw her," Katara murmured softly, gently running a fingertip over one of Nozomi's pearly little teeth. "And you said she's walking now?" Katara then asked, steadying her child with her hand when Nozomi swayed. At Iroh's nod, she frowned. "How long has it been since...?" Katara couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, and Iroh nodded in understanding.

"A little over three weeks," he replied, and he felt a pang in his heart when he saw Katara's wince.

"So much has changed," she murmured softly, lifting one of her hands to cup the back of her daughter's head. "Her hair has gotten longer too," she noted quietly, running her fingers through the soft, silky strands.

Nozomi wriggled in Katara's lap, and pumped her arms against her mother's chest. "Down! Mama down!" she exclaimed, and Katara bit her lower lip hard as she carefully lifted the child from her lap and placed her on the floor. Almost instantly, the baby toddled off, her arms waving in the air in her excitement.

"Bittersweet, isn't it?" Iroh noted when he saw the expression on Katara's face. The young woman spared the aging man a tired smile before her eyes refocused on her child.

Nozomi frowned when her bare feet touched one of the fur rugs strewn about the room, and plopped down on her bottom in response. She then pulled up tufts of the fur with her little fists, and her frown deepened when she looked down and realized that the substance stuck to her fingers. She tried shaking her hands to remove it, and when it continued to stick, she pushed out her lower lip. "Off!" she cried out, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "Uncew, Mama! Off!" she exclaimed.

In a moment's time, Katara was kneeling in front of the little girl and was wiping the fur off her hands. "There. All better," Katara said and then planted a kiss on the child's head. Nozomi babbled out some nonsense before pulling up more fur with a grin. Katara rolled her eyes before lifting Nozomi back into her arms and carrying her away from the rug.

Katara shifted Nozomi to one hip as she crossed to her vanity and withdrew the box that Kin had put away earlier. "Here, you can play with Mama's things," Katara said as she carried the box over to the floor. She set Nozomi down and then opened the lid of the box, and the sparkling gems within instantly caught the baby's attention. Nozomi began to withdraw the jewelry piece by piece, lifting each trinket up to her face before waving it around in the air and putting it down on the ground.

"Are those new?" Iroh's inquiry drew Katara's attention away from her child and towards the man who had become her uncle.

"Compliments of your nephew," Katara replied dryly, her voice tinged with a combination of sorrow, anger, and bitterness.

Iroh's brows shot upwards, but he didn't comment on the extravagant gift. Whatever it was that his nephew had done, it was bad enough for the normally thrifty boy to squander an exorbitant amount of money. Iroh cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Speaking of my nephew…"

"I don't want to talk about him," Katara replied quickly, her tone flat.

"Understandable, but…"

"There's nothing to talk about. There isn't anything between us anymore," Katara said when Iroh went to speak again, and the man sighed softly before shaking his head.

He knew better than to speak on his nephew's behalf, and didn't he particularly want to. He felt for the boy, honest to Agni he did, but his sympathy for Katara ran deeper. However, although he knew better and "Oh, there is something very important between the two of you," Iroh said, glancing pointedly to where the child played on the floor. Katara followed his gaze, and Iroh watched with sorrow when her shoulders slumped at the truth of his words.

"You know…" Iroh began, and Katara turned to face him again. "He was the one who arranged this," he said, gesturing towards the baby again. "He would have brought her if he could, but Ozai…" Iroh trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

Katara said nothing, but a muscle in her jaw clenched. Iroh sighed and shook his head. _Tenacity isn't always a virtue._ "Listen to me, Katara. You have every right to hate my nephew; I know that. But you share a child with him; you married him!"

"It was a marriage founded on a lie!" Katara replied harshly, and then she let out a shuddering sigh. "He lied to me the whole time, Uncle. That isn't supposed to happen!"

"No, it isn't. And I am so sorry that it happened to you," Iroh said, and he gently took both of Katara's hands within his own. "But the fact stands that you are his wife, and that the two of you have a daughter. You need to reconcile, for no other sake but that of Nozomi's."

Katara shook her head and refused to meet the aging man's gaze. "Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do? Only three weeks ago, he murdered my family. He lied to me, betrayed me, and…" Katara's mouth worked for a second, but the words failed form. "And you're asking me to forget? To pretend that Sokka, Toph, my father, Bato, and Aang aren't dead?"

"No, I would never ask that of you. You will never be able to forget, Katara, and thus you will probably never be able to forgive my nephew for what he did. However, for the sake of your child you must find a way to reconcile, even in the smallest of ways."

Katara shook her head and stared at her hands. ""It's too hard, Uncle," she replied softly, evidenced in her voice.

Iroh was silent for a time as he attempted to formulate the words. "Have I ever told you about the swan?" he asked after careful thought, and Katara dropped her head into her hands.

"Not another bird analogy," she groaned softly, and Iroh chuckled.

"In the water, the swan is the most graceful of creatures. However, when it attempts to lift itself into the air, it becomes ungainly. It takes time and effort for the swan to rise from the position it is in, but when it does… it is breathtaking.

"Like the swan, you must find the will and the strength to rise above your circumstances. It will be difficult at first, and you will want to give up. But you must press forward, for in the end, the struggle will only make you stronger."

"Maybe I'm tired of being the strong one," Katara said once he had finished, her gaze pinned on her lap.

Iroh nodded his head, and then looked over to where Nozomi played. "When you became a mother, Katara, you lost all rights to being a weak person. It is a mother's duty to push forwards where others cave in; to continue to try no matter how many times she fails. It is her responsibility to love unconditionally, to protect unquestioningly, and to never give up."

Katara swallowed hard and stared at her daughter, before slowly nodding her head. She took in a deep, shuddering breath and turned back to Iroh. "I'll try."

--

**A/N:** I just attended the most spectacular hindu wedding last night... What a culture! Did you know that Agni is really a hindu god? Agni is Lord of the Fire, and is symbolized by the sacred fire which the couple must circle at their wedding ceremony. The fire is used as an unbiased witness, taking into consideration neither class nor color. I just thought that was interesting and I wanted to share. XD.

Anyways, you know the drill. Please review (especially since I made it such a quick update!)

Also, as a bit of a sidenote: I am thinking of hosting a contest for the coverart of Varedha/Eclipse. The winner of the contest will recieve a oneshot of their choice, which will be sent to them no more than one week after the contest winners are decided. If you gus show any interest in this at all, let me know in your review. If enough of you decide that it could be a fun idea, We'll do it! It could be really fun...


	7. Chapter 6

"_Uncle Aang!" Nozomi cried as she ran forwards with outstretched arms. Her long black hair flew out behind her, and her bare feet slapped at the marble floors of the palace. Aang bent down and scooped the child up into his arms, twirling her around once and planting a kiss on her forehead before settling her on his hip._

"_You're getting too big for this," the avatar chuckled, noting how the girl's foot almost reached his knee. Nozomi giggled brightly, and then looked back in the direction that she had rushed from earlier. _

"_Mommy! Uncle Aang is back!" she exclaimed, her pale face flushed and her gray eyes alight. _

_Katara stepped forwards, balancing a smaller child in her arms. "Aang," she greeted, her eyes warm. "We've missed you."_

_The little boy in her arms wriggled and reached out chubby hands to the avatar. "Aangy!" he shouted, blue eyes glowing beneath a shock of black hair. Aang laughed and put Nozomi down before taking the few steps that separated him and Katara. _

"_Pukiq! How have you been, little man?" Aang said, removing the baby from Katara's arms and settling him into his own. "You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you!" he exclaimed, ruffling the little boy's dark hair. Nozomi tugged on her uncle's pants, her wide grin revealing a gap between her teeth. _

"_Will you come play with the turtle ducks with me?" she asked, and Aang's grin widened. _

"_Of course I will! How have they been doing? Last time I was here little Siku was feeling a little bit under the weather," he replied. How he remembered about a sick turtle duck when he had the world to care for was beyond Katara. She herself often struggled to remember the names that her daughter had given the animals, much less the situations surrounding them._

"_Well, Siku's feeling a lot better now. But Sesi…" the child prattled on and on about the turtle ducks, and Aang met Katara's amused glance over the heads of her children. _

'_Later,' he mouthed, and Katara grinned and nodded, and watched as her daughter led the avatar away. _

"_Like he never left, hm?" Zuko asked, his arms suddenly around her waist and his chin resting at the top of her head. Katara leaned back into her husband's embrace, and rested her hands on top of Zuko's._

"_You could have come out to greet him, you know," she scolded gently, and she felt Zuko sigh. _

"_It's still…awkward," Zuko replied softly, and Katara frowned and she turned in his arms. _

"_It's been eight years, Zuko."_

"_And he's still in love with you," Zuko returned quietly, and Katara bit her lip. Zuko smiled grimly, and then leaned forwards and brushed his lips across Katara's. "Although I understand why," he murmured against her mouth, and then he trailed his lips from hers, across her jaw, and down the column of her throat. _

_Katara pulled away from her husband, a line between her brows. "Not now, Zuko."_

"_Why not? The kids are occupied, and you know we won't get a chance later tonight," he murmured, leaning forwards to kiss her again. _

"_My brother's coming today, you know that. We have to be ready for him when he comes. He tends to arrive…completely unannounced."_

"_And?" Zuko replied, trailing his hand down her spine and grinning when he felt his wife shiver at his touch. _

"_And we don't want a repeat of last year," Katara reminded him, and Zuko stepped away with a grimace. The year before, he had managed to persuade Katara to spend the afternoon alone in their rooms. That plan had gone to pieces when Sokka had walked directly into their bedroom with absolutely no warning, and caught them with their pants down. Literally._

"_Your brother," Zuko muttered under his breath, and Katara let out a breathy laugh. _

_Toph stepped out from behind a pillar, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I take it you two are finished now?" she demanded, and Zuko scowled. "Honestly, you two. You'd think that after eight years of marriage the hormones would have toned down a notch," she grumbled, and Katara swatted her arm. _

"_Oh, they have. Eight years ago I wouldn't have been able to turn him down," Katara replied, and Zuko chuckled. Toph sighed harshly and shook her head. _

"_Sex crazed idiots," she muttered under her breath, and Zuko rolled his eyes. _

"_Well if that's not the pot calling the kettle black," he replied dryly. "Remember your sixteenth birthday?"_

_Toph paused for a moment, and then a wide, self satisfied grin spread across her features. "Good times," she said, placing her hands behind her neck._

_Katara stiffened and lifted a brow. "I don't remember this…"_

"_That's 'cause you weren't invited, Sugar Queen. It was just me, Snoozles, and Sparky. I got our boys to take me to a bar, and once we all got piss drunk…" she trailed off with a chuckle. _

_Katara planted her hands on her hips and turned to face Zuko. "Explain."  
Zuko coughed and stuttered, and then pinned a dark glare on the blind girl whistling beside him. "Well…we, uh…we may have gotten a little carried away…" Funny how he could kill his father in cold blood, but couldn't put together a coherent sentence while facing his angry wife. _

"_Go on."_

"_Well, you see, uh… Sokka and I may have started singing a bunch of sailing songs together…"_

"_While stripping," Toph added with a grin, and Zuko scowled. Katara pinned a furious glare on her now squirming husband._

"…_and Toph might have snuck to the back room with the bartender, a stripper, and a bounty hunter. It really wasn't as bad as it sounds…"_

_Toph cackled. "Oh yes, it was!" she exclaimed, a devious glint in her clouded eyes. _

_Katara threw her hands up in the air and shook her head in disgust. "Unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "Toph, I can't believe you honestly…" Katara paused for a moment, and then sighed. "Actually I can," she admitted, and Toph's grin widened. "But you!" Katara exclaimed, turning around and pointing a finger at her husband. "You're the Fire Lord. You can't do things like that!"_

"_Come on, Katara. That was four years ago. Besides, nobody ever found out."_

"_Well I did!" Katara exclaimed, "And just so you know, there is no way on earth that I'm going to…" Katara trailed off when a gaggle of children were suddenly in sight. _

"_Oh, spirits," Zuko groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. _

_And then the children were there, reaching up their arms and tugging on their robes. "Aunt Katara! Uncle Zuko! Aunt Toph!" The adults leaned down and scooped Sokka's children up into their arms, putting aside their previous discussion for later. _

_There were five of them, all blue eyed, all grinning. Zuko had asked Katara, long ago, why Sokka hadn't started controlling himself after the third. Katara had then reminded him of their own two month stay in the South Pole, and the result of their little vacation. Pukiq hadn't been a planned child, but the combination of boredom and the frigid environment had led to his creation. _

_And then Sokka was there, yelling at the kids to pipe down through the smile on his face, and Suki was behind him, resting a hand on her distended belly. "You have no idea how nice it is to be warm," she greeted them, and Katara ran forwards and embraced her sister in law. _

_Sokka strode forward and clapped Zuko on the back, a wide grin on his face. "Sorry about the noise," he said, gesturing to the children that surrounded them. Zuko shrugged, and glanced over to Suki. _

"_Number six, huh?" he asked, and Sokka's grin widened. "You are a braver man than I," Zuko added._

_Sokka laughed, and then glanced around him. "So, your Worshipfulness," he said, and Zuko winced at the nickname. "You got anything good to eat around here? I'm starving."_

"_Me too! Me too!" cried the children, and Zuko glanced over to Katara, who was engrossed in a conversation with Suki. She glanced back at him, as though feeling his stare, and laughed at the helpless look on her face. _

"_You know where the kitchens are, kids. Help yourselves," she called over to the group, who cheered and ran off as one. Sokka trailed after them, waving away Suki's warnings not to terrorize the staff._

_Toph laughed at the sight, and then looked over to Katara. "No way I'm missing this. See you later Sweetness, Sparky," she called, and then ran after Sokka and his children. _

_Katara sighed when the noise quieted and turned back to Suki again. "Just like old times, isn't it?" she asked with a grin, and Suki laughed. _

"_A little louder, but yes. Just like old times."_

--

Katara frowned as she stared up at the ceiling, completely disoriented. "Zuko?" she murmured thickly, instinctively rolling onto her side and stretching an arm out over the empty space beside her. She rubbed her eyes, and then propped herself up on one hand. The bed was so warm, and she wanted to sink back into slumber, but she couldn't quite remember where she was.

"Zuko?" she called out again, louder this time as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, and then it hit her. The memories of the past weeks came crashing down, and left her breathless. Katara sank back against the pillows and bit her fist to stifle a scream.

A dream. It had been nothing more than a dream. Aang had not survived, Sokka's children did not and would never exist, and Toph had never had the chance to get hammered on her sixteenth birthday. Katara felt the tears coursing down her cheeks but didn't bother to wipe them away.

That was how it could have been. They could have all been so happy, surrounded by people who loved them. If fate was kind, they could have done so many great things. They could have grown into the people that they were born to be; touched by war but not destroyed by it. They could have had children, could have become a true family that laughed and teased and got into horribly stupid and terrible situations.

But now they would never have that chance. The light heart that she had woken with fled, and Katara suddenly felt very weary, and very old.

"Lady, did you call for me?" Kin asked softly, pressing her fleshy, warm hand against Katara's forehead. Katara shook her head slowly, and tried to forget her first thoughts upon waking. She tried to pretend that she hadn't longed for Zuko's arms to surround her; tried to pretend that she hadn't wished to wake beside him. But most of all, she tried to ignore the ache that developed in her heart when she thought of the man that Zuko could have grown to be.

--

"Han Yu," Ozai greeted, a smile curving his lips upwards when he saw his cousin. The man was larger than he remembered, broader. His golden eyes were alight with ambition- Ozai knew that emotion well. He would need that ambition and a great deal of drive in order to fulfill his marriage contract with Azula.

Many had accused the man of being slightly deranged, but Ozai knew better. Han Yu was merely determined. He and the younger man were made from the same mold…the same mold as their grandfather, Sozin, had been made from. In their childhood, that similarity had led to bitterness and squabbling, so much so that they had often had to be separated. And when Ozai had inherited the throne, Han Yu had been eaten alive with jealousy.

Many who knew their family dynamics thought Ozai crazy for marrying his only daughter to such a man. But Ozai knew that it was a stroke of genius. Like his cousin and himself, Azula was also ambitious and power hungry. As such, she would need a man of a similar nature to rule beside her. Han Yu was the perfect option.

Not only did he have both drive and ambition; he was also a member of the family. He was connected to all the people that Ozai and Azula were, and since he was a member of the royal family, the nobles had no ability to object. In addition, Han Yu had the streak of cruelty that was necessary to rule over a conquered world.

In a word, he was perfect.

"Fire Lord," Han Yu greeted with a slight bow, more mocking than respectful. Ozai let it slide.

"I suppose you realize why I have called you here," Ozai said, choosing to skip over the formalities and preliminaries. Neither of the two men had ever been much for small talk, after all.

"To be honest, I thought that you had changed your mind. When Prince Zuko returned, I assumed that you would leave the throne to him."

"Zuko is an incompetent weakling and a fool," Ozai said with a quick motion. "He's more suited for a life at court than running my empire."

Han Yu raised a brow, and then grinned. "He has a little too much of Iroh in him, hm?" he asked, and Ozai leveled a glare at his cousin.

Han Yu had been there when Ozai had learned of Ursa's infidelity and of his brother's betrayal. He had also been there several months after the fact when Ursa had revealed her pregnancy. Han Yu made no secret of his beliefs as to Zuko's origins. And while Ozai had longed to believe Ursa's assurances that the boy was, in fact, his own, he also had his doubts.

"My apologies," Han Yu said, although Ozai could sense the insincerity of his words.

"Sozin's comet will arrive in under two months," Ozai said, ignoring his cousin's mocking. "I take it you will be prepared for the wedding by then?"

"Of course," Han Yu replied.

"Good. You and my daughter will be married the day it arrives, and after the ceremony I will declare you as my heir." Ozai watched as a feral smile played over Han Yu's features. "I trust that is acceptable." This time, it was his voice that was mocking.

"Of course…of course." Ozai could practically see the gears whirling in Han Yu's mind.

"Oh, and I probably should warn you…" Ozai began, and Han Yu's eyes met his. "…Azula will not be happy about this."

Han Yu chuckled and shook his head. "She'll deal with it. I'm surprised you've allowed that rebellious nature of hers to go unbridled for so long," he said pointedly, and Ozai chuckled.

"She's served her purpose," he replied, thinking of all the times that his daughter's stubborn streak had enabled her to accomplish the impossible. But now he no longer had a use for the stubborn, martial side of his daughter. Now, all he needed of her was to marry and produce worthy heirs to his empire.

When Han Yu said nothing in response, Ozai lifted a hand and shooed his cousin towards the door. "I'm certain we will be seeing more of each other," Ozai said in parting, and then paused. "Do give your regards to Aunt Mayu for me," he added with a smirk.

Han Yu stiffened slightly at the mention of his mother- Agni knew the pair didn't get on well- and then finally forced a nod. With that, the man swept out of the room, leaving Ozai alone.

The crease between the Fire Lord's brows deepened, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Now all he had to do was find a way to break the news to Azula…

--

"Dada!" Nozomi exclaimed with a toothy grin, reaching her chubby arms out to Zuko. The prince smiled as he strode forwards and lifted the child out of his uncle's grasp.

"Hey, Princess," he murmured softly, and pressed a kiss to the child's forehead. "Are you being good for Uncle?" he asked, and the baby tugged at the crown he wore over his topknot.

"Yeth," she replied with a lisp, and Zuko chuckled. He pulled the little girl flush against him, and buried his head in her soft, downy curls. After spending all day with the vipers of the court, Nozomi's innocence was a breath of fresh air. _Was I like this once? Was it really not so long ago that I was this innocent?_

"You begin to understand," Iroh said softly, his voice gentle. Zuko lifted his head, and met his Uncle's gaze with a wry smile. "So, how was court?" Iroh asked, swiftly moving the conversation to safer territory.

Zuko's smile melted into a scowl, and he set the baby on the floor. "Terrible," he muttered, and sank down into the chair beside his uncle. Iroh chuckled in understanding, and then rubbed his palms together.

"So, what was it today?" Iroh asked, and Zuko's scowl deepened.  
"You mean besides the usual?" he asked, and Iroh's smile dropped a fraction. _The Water Tribe whore, the half-breed bastard…_ Zuko couldn't bring himself to voice any of the gossip that circulated through the court about he and his family; preferred not to think about half of the things that they had said about Katara. "Han Yu is back. Rumor has it that Ozai's going to marry him to Azula," Zuko said instead, pushing thoughts of his ruined family from his mind.

Iroh's eyes were dark and serious the second that Zuko had uttered his cousin's name. "That bastard," Iroh ground out, and Zuko stared at his uncle in surprise. The past month had revealed a side of his uncle that Zuko had never seen before- a darker, more brutal side that had surely earned him the title of Dragon of the West.

"I only remember him vaguely," Zuko added, and Iroh nodded slowly.

"Be grateful," the aging man said, and Zuko winced.

"I've heard rumors, but…"

"The rumors don't begin to do him justice," Iroh interrupted, and then glanced down to where the child was playing. Deciding that she wouldn't understand anything that he said, Iroh continued. "I know you've heard about the torture chamber, and about his cruelty, but it goes deeper than that.

"When we were children, he would wring the necks of the turtle ducks in the gardens. His mother often punished him, and it made him hate her. When he was ten years old, your Great Aunt Mayu scolded him in front of my brother and I, as well as a few of our friends. He grew so angry that he burned her with his fire bending. I haven't seen her face since that day, believe it or not. She keeps it hidden under layers of veils.

"And… he was in love with his sister." Iroh paused, as though the admission cost him dearly. He saw the horror etched on his nephew's face, and a part of him wondered if he should continue. But then he reminded himself that Zuko was no child to be coddled- he had seen his fair share of terror, and inflicted a great deal of pain.

"Hina was completely sane. She was horrified by her younger brother's attentions, and often discouraged his advances. When she was sixteen she and her mother left for Ember Island, and Han Yu was left behind. He was fourteen then, and was in military training. He was furious that he couldn't go with her, and he took it out on the servants that surrounded him.

"The following year, Hina was betrothed. She was a sweet child, and possessed a beauty that rivaled that of your mother. It was only the lunacy of her younger brother that had kept men from making a move earlier. Naturally, the rest of the family was thrilled. Han Yu, however, was furious.

"Several days before the wedding, Hina was found dead. It had been a quick acting poison, and her death had been painless. But before she had died, or maybe just afterwards, she had been…" Iroh paused, and struggled with his words. Finally, he took a breath and continued. "…deflowered. There was no way to prove that it was Han Yu, of course, but we all knew. His mother never forgave him."

Zuko was frozen in his chair, his amber eyes wide and face pale with revulsion. "His own sister?" he whispered, feeling sick.

"She was the first of many women. Hina may have been his first rape, but she certainly wasn't the last. The concubines are terrified every time he comes to the palace. They have told me stories…" Iroh trailed off, visibly disturbed. "Han Yu inherited Sozin's insanity."

Zuko swallowed hard and shook his head. "Forgive me, Uncle, if I never give you the grandchildren that you want. I'd rather not bring any more children with my blood into this world. It's screwed up enough as it is."

Iroh chuckled darkly, and shook his head. "I used to say the same thing, but then my wife gave me Lu Ten. He was…" Iroh paused again, and Zuko could see the pain in the man's face intermingled with fondness. "He was an angel. Handsome, strong, and incredibly kind. You reminded me so much of him, back when we were traveling with the avatar. A little grumpier and more thick-sculled, but…you were still so similar."

Zuko tried to ignore the way Iroh used the past tense, as though he had drastically changed overnight. He could feel the weight of his Uncle's disappointment in him; knew that the old general now saw Ozai when he looked into his eyes rather than the kind-natured Lu Ten.

"I'm sorry," Zuko said softly, and the apology was filled with a double meaning. He was sorry for his cousin's death and his uncle's sorrow, but he was also sorry that he had let his uncle down to such a great extent. But he knew that no amount of apologies for either count would ever be able to fix anything.

Iroh gave Zuko a thin lipped smile. "I was given a second chance at fatherhood," he said softly, and Zuko remembered how Iroh had hovered by his bedside when his father had branded him. That made the guilt he felt all the more intense; increased his self loathing ten fold.

Iroh then turned to stare at Nozomi, and his smile gentled, became more genuine. "And you've been given the chance to make things right," he added softly, his eyes never wavering from the child.

Zuko smiled.

--

"Hey, Mai!" Ty Lee exclaimed, and Mai had to suppress the urge to wince at her friend's enthusiasm. "I think I found something!" The pink clad acrobat held a scroll in the air, and Mai felt her heart take a swan dive into her stomach.

"What does it say?" she asked, forcing the tremble from her fingertips and making certain that her voice came out steady and strong. She unrolled another scroll and swallowed hard in an attempt to bring her nerves under control.

"The Water Tribe girl's father wasn't there, right? Well, according to this law here, '..If the father of the bride was alive at the time of the wedding, but did not give his express consent for the bride to marry the groom, the marriage contract is null and void.' It goes on to say that…" Ty Lee scanned the page briefly, and then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, basically, that they eloped. And that an eloped marriage is an easily dissolvable one."

Mai swallowed hard, and held her hand out to her friend. "Let me see that," she said breathlessly, and Ty Lee bounded over and dropped the scroll in the girl's hand.

Mai scanned the lines penned, and clenched her hands so tightly that her nails dug into her flesh and caused her to bleed. "You're right," she finally conceded, and she placed the scroll down on the table in front of her. Oddly enough, there was no joy in the discovery. Rather, she felt a sort of dull ache, and her stomach churned.

_This is what I've wanted for as long as I can remember! I will be Zuko's bride, the wife of the future Fire Lord. I will be the single most powerful woman in the entire world! Why aren't I happy about this? I should be happy… I should be so happy…_

"Are you okay, Mai? You look a little pale," Ty Lee noted, and reached a hand out to touch her friend's forehead. Mai swatted the acrobat's hand away, and took a deep, shuddering breath. She unclenched her hands, wiped the blood on the crimson of her robes, and schooled her features into an emotionless mask.

"I've told you before, Ty Lee. I'm always pale," Mai replied dryly, and Ty Lee frowned deeply.

"You don't look excited. Are you having second thoughts? Do you not want to go through with this?" Ty Lee paused for a second, and then bit her lip. "I'm sure we could always lie to Azula if you want to. We could burn the scroll and no one would be the wiser," she offered, and Mai's eyes widened in shock.

"Ty Lee…that's treason," she finally managed to say, and glanced about the room to ensure that her friend's words hadn't been overheard.

"I know," Ty Lee said softly, her voice uncharacteristically grave. "But this is your future we're talking about Mai. I want you to be happy, and I'd gladly face Azula if that's what it takes."

Mai covered her friend's mouth with a long, elegant hand, her usually emotionless face suddenly filled with fear. "Don't even think about it," she hissed, and then removed her hand from her friend's mouth. "Don't say another word on the subject," she warned, and Ty Lee pouted, reverting to her normal antics.

"And I am happy, Ty Lee," Mai added after a moment, wondering why the lie was sticking in her throat when she had lied so easily about every other subject. "Overwhelmed," Mai added, and this was true. She felt like she was drowning when she looked to her suddenly not so distant future. "But happy," she said again, forcing strength into her voice as the lie slid past her lips.

Ty Lee quirked a brow and planted her hands on her hips before shaking her head. "Love," she sighed, and then perched herself on the table. Mai smiled grimly in response. "So…when are you going to tell Azula?" she asked.

"Tell me what?"

The two girls whirled around to find the princess leaning against the door jam, her arms crossed over her chest. Mai's throat went dry at the sight of her, and wondered if she had been there long enough to hear Ty Lee's treasonous words. The tall, pale girl swallowed, and then lifted the scroll into her hands. "We found your solution," she said, and Azula grinned.

Suddenly, the smile wasn't quite so mocking or so feral. It actually looked normal…as though she were genuinely pleased. Azula snatched the scroll out of Mai's hands and scanned it quickly; the grin widened, but was swiftly replaced with a frown. "I wonder why I didn't think of that," she said.

"You probably had a whole bunch of more important things to do. Everyone's been talking about it! You know, your dad marrying you off to Han Yu and all…" Ty Lee stopped talking when she saw the horrified expression on Azula's face, and swiftly clapped a hand over her mouth. Mai nervously glanced over her shoulder to where Azula stood, looking like a whipped puppy.

It hit Mai then that the girl was only fourteen years old, and was absolutely terrified of marriage. She was too young to be in the position she was in…they all were really. Mai felt sympathy stir within her breast, and she abruptly remembered why she had remained friends with the sadistic princess for so many years.

But then the hurt expression was gone, and a demon of fire had replaced it. Azula was fuming, a tendril of smoke escaping from her left nostril and her hands clenched in fury. "He was supposed to break it off," she ground out, and Mai found that she was truly frightened.

"So? Do something about it," she said, managing to sound completely nonchalant as she examined her nails. Mai could feel Ty Lee's stare boring into her, but she ignored it. And then the acrobat suddenly caught on to the game they had played for years, albeit a second late.

"Yeah, I mean you can do _anything_!" Ty Lee exclaimed with her typical exuberance and a clap of her hands. "I bet you could talk your dad out of it. Especially since you found out how to dissolve Zuko's marriage!"

Azula calmed down slightly at her friends' words, and she nodded slowly. "You're right. I can do something about it," she murmured to herself. And then she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Mai and Ty Lee alone once more.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Ty Lee whispered, the trademark smile dropped for once, and her eyes very wide and very frightened.

Mai said nothing. Outwardly, she maintained the air of nonchalance, but her heart was racing within.

--

**A/N: **I've decided to do the art contest; details will be available on my profile later tonight. So...review!! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 7

Sokka stood at the wharf, Suki's hand clasped within his own. The rest of his tribe was assembled around them, and Sokka felt a knot of apprehension coil deep in his stomach. It wasn't that he didn't want the waterbenders of the Northern Water Tribe to arrive…far from it. It was just that he knew that the newest additions to his tribe would bring a great deal of change with them.

He remembered the short time he'd spent in the Northern Water Tribe, and recalled the towering structures of ice, the canals and gondolas, and the apparent wealth of the tribe. All he'd ever known was sealskin tents and small igloos, and if he was truly honest with himself, he didn't really like the idea that his land would one day grow into a giant city of ice.

He stole a glance over at his betrothed, who stood tall and proud beside him. Suki would appreciate the change, he knew. She had tried to hide her discomfort from him, but he knew that she was having a great deal of difficulty adapting to his homeland. Perhaps she would get acclimated easier if she was given the comforts that only a city could bring.

The small wharf groaned and creaked as the Northern Water Tribe ship docked, and suddenly the air about him was abuzz with excitement. He could hear currents of noise flooding the small crowd behind him. Sailors called to one another aboard the ship, and the gangplank was let down. It hit the rickety old dock with a loud thud, and sent tremors through the old wooden structure.

Sokka released Suki's hand and stepped forward just as a familiar, gray haired man descended the ramp. Sokka stopped moving, stopped breathing, as memories flooded him at the sight of the crabby old man's face.

"_Well, I'm impressed. You are an excellent water bender," Pakku said, brushing ice shavings off of his parka. Katara's face darkened. _

"_You still won't teach me, will you?" she said, her voice dark and angry. Pakku raised a brow and smiled. _

"_No."_

_With a war cry, Katara leapt forwards. In one quick, fluid motion, she lifted water from the ice about her feet, froze it, and sent it in a rolling wave towards Pakku. The man effortlessly melted the base of the ice column he was standing upon, and rode the wave that Katara had sent his way. In retaliation, Katara lifted another stream of water and managed to knock him off of his ice block, however, the victory was short lived. Pakku turned her own water against her, and knocked her to the floor._

_Breathing heavily, Katara pushed herself to her feet, heedless that her necklace had fallen from her neck. Before she could move, Pakku had her trapped and pinned beneath a thousand ice shards. Pakku's mouth twitched upwards into a smirk as he watched the girl struggle in vain against her prison of ice. _

"_This fight is over," he said, walking past her. _

"_Come back here! I'm not finished yet!"_

"_Yes you are," Pakku returned, and then stopped in his tracks. Sokka watched in shock as the water bending master bent and picked up Katara's necklace with surprising gentleness. "This is my necklace," the man said in a hushed sort of wonder, and Sokka glanced over at his sister just in time to see her face twist in anger. _

"_No! It's mine! Give it back!" she cried. Sokka could hear the fear beneath the anger; knew it was the only thing that the girl had of their mother's. For her, losing it would be like losing her mother all over again. _

"_I made this sixty years ago…for the love of my life…For Kana."_

_His shock had enabled Katara to free herself from her icy confines, but Sokka knew that fighting was now the last thing on her mind. "My Gran-Gran was supposed to marry you?" Sokka could hear the vulnerability there; could see the pain in Pakku's eyes when he glanced back at her. He himself could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the revelation. What else had been hidden from him? What more would he learn?_

"Master Pakku," Sokka greeted, quickly recovering his composure. "On behalf of my people… Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe." He heard his grandmother suck in a breath between her teeth, but he ignored the old woman's surprise.

Pakku tilted his head slightly to the side, and Sokka could sense the intensity of his scrutiny. "You look familiar," he said after a time, and Sokka cleared his throat. Before he could introduce himself, the old man chuckled. "Ah… my little prodigy's bumbling older brother!" he exclaimed, obviously pleased with himself.

Sokka resisted the urge to glare at the man when he heard the snickers from his Tribes people behind him. "You always did look like you needed a bath…" the man sniffed the air, and then winced. "Apparently that hasn't changed," he observed with distaste.

"Nice to see you too, old man," Sokka replied dryly, and the man's brows rose.

"Plucky, aren't you?" he replied, but his tone sounded more fond than annoyed. Sokka frowned slightly at the odd warmth in Pakku's eyes, but shrugged it off. "And the Chieftain too," the aging waterbending master noted after a short pause.

Sokka didn't know what he could say to that statement, so he merely nodded. Pakku's lips turned upwards at the corners again, and he nodded once. "Good for you," he said, and the approval was apparent in his voice. "Now that the pleasantries are through, I think we need to discuss our strategy for getting this dismal little village on its feet," he said in the next breath, his eyes gone from warm to calculating.

Sokka cleared his throat as his mind scrambled to keep up with that of the irritable old bender. "Well, I was thinking that we could work on the wall first- like the one you have at the Northern Water Tribe. We can wait on the city being built, but protection is necessary."

"Understandable. However, the men and women I brought with me aren't going to want to stay in conditions such as these while they work," Pakku said, gesturing towards the small igloos and sealskin tents with distaste

Sokka bit back a defensive retort, and instead nodded his head. "Then you and I will draw up plans for the layout of the city while the benders erect the wall. Once we've drawn up the plans, we'll have half of the benders begin to work on the city while the other half continues work on the wall. If they have a problem staying in our tents with us, they can stay on the ship until their homes are completed."

"A sound plan," Pakku replied after a moment's consideration. "We should probably begin a survey of the land before…" he paused, and Sokka watched as the ever present, haughty smirk on Pakku's lips dropped away. Frowning, Sokka followed the old man's gaze, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that the waterbending master's eyes rested on his grandmother.

"Kana," Pakku breathed, his voice oddly vulnerable.

Sokka's mouth twisted into a wry grin when his grandmother tossed her head and lifted her jaw a fraction. "Pakku," she replied, her tone distant. Her attitude was indifferent, and Sokka could see the pain that briefly flashed at the obvious dismissal. The man took a step back before squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat.

"As I was saying…" he said, turning his gaze back towards Sokka. "We should survey the terrain before drawing up the plans. It is better to work with the ice formations already present than to attempt to change everything." Despite the man's attempt to cover his reaction to his old flame, Sokka heard the concealed tremor in Pakku's voice.

"I agree. And then perhaps you should join us for dinner. Gran-Gran makes wonderful stewed sea prunes," Sokka replied, and he struggled not to smile when he heard his grandmother's irritated huff.

"I remember," Pakku said softly, before visibly shaking himself and clearing his throat. "Yes, well… we do have a lot to discuss." His words were spoken in Sokka's direction, however the young chieftain knew that the message was not intended for him. Pakku's eyes had rested solely on Kana when he had spoken.

"I'm sure we do," Sokka murmured, casting a sidelong glance to his grandmother. The woman humphed, glared, and squared her jaw.

Sokka repressed the urge to chuckle. _This will be interesting…_

--

Suki stared at the plate before her, her stomach rolling at the sight of so much bland, mushy food. She could have sworn that it looked even more unappetizing than usual, but that just could have been a product of the atmosphere. The tension around the fire was so thick you cut it with a knife…and that was an understatement.

The waterbending master that Sokka had invited into their home hadn't stopped staring at Kana, and the old woman had simply chosen to ignore him. She had kept her mouth full all night so that she wouldn't have to answer any of the man's pointed questions.

However, it was obvious that Pakku would not go away, no matter how much Kana avoided him. Whatever it was that stood between them needed to be settled now- tonight. Suki pushed her plate away, and then she stood slowly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling very well," she said, and Kana's brow furrowed with a combination of concern and suspicion.

Sokka glanced between his grandmother and his betrothed once, and then he too pushed away his plate. "I'd better go with you. If you're not feeling well, you shouldn't be left alone," he said, and then glanced over to his grandmother and Pakku. "Goodnight," he excused himself, and then wrapped his arm around Suki's waist.

Suki sighed softly as they walked into the igloo, and then leaned against him. She hadn't been lying when she'd said that she wasn't feeling well. Her stomach was still gurgling, the baby had made sport out of kicking her all day long, and her back was aching.

"The baby bothering you again?" Sokka asked softly, pressing his lips to Suki's snow covered hair. For the past week or so, the baby's kicking had woken Suki up at odd hours of the night. Of course, when she woke, Sokka woke with her.

"Only a little," Suki replied with a chuckle, absently rubbing her belly through the parka. Her stomach had grown, Suki knew. It still wasn't distended enough to see through her parka, but that wouldn't be the case for long. Kana had told her that within three or four more weeks, everyone would be able to see the bulge- parka or no.

Suki swallowed hard. "Sokka…" she said softly. Sensing the severity of her tone, the man stopped moving and lightly rested his hands on her forearms. He urged her to continue with his eyes, so Suki drew in a deep breath and took the plunge. "We need to get married soon," she said, and Sokka frowned. "I mean, I don't want to rush things, but…we're not going to be able to hide this for very long." She placed her hand over her belly again and Sokka's eyes widened.

"I…I guess…I mean…" Sokka trailed off and shook his head. "How much longer until it's born?" he asked, and Suki shrugged.

"Three and a half months, if my calculations are correct. Maybe four." She took a deep breath, and then let it out in a sigh. "Look, Sokka…I know that we're busy and that now isn't really the time for a wedding, but… I want to do things right."

Sokka cleared his throat and attempted a smile. "Don't you think it's a little late for that?" he asked, resting his palm against her growing abdomen. Suki's eyes welled with tears, and the smile instantly dropped from his face. "Wait, Suki, I was just…"

"No, you're right! Our family didn't start out the right way. I know that, and so do you! But I am not going to be an unwedded mother, Sokka. You are going to marry me before this baby is born or so help me, I'll…I'll…I'll rip your man parts off and throw them to the turtle seals!" she cried out, her face contorted with anger despite her tears.

Sokka quickly grabbed her wrists and pulled her flush against him, despite her struggles. "Of course, I'll marry you, you silly woman," Sokka laughed, and kissed her forehead. "There is nothing in this world that I want more." He paused suddenly, and then added in a softer voice, "Well, almost nothing."

Suki sighed softly and closed her eyes before gripping his parka tightly with gloved fingers. "Then why did you hesitate?" she asked quietly, choosing to ignore his last comment. She knew that he'd been thinking of Katara, and of his desire to make Zuko pay for his crimes. It was easier to speak of other things, because of their division of beliefs on Zuko's reasons for betraying them.

Sokka idly ran a strand of her auburn hair through gloved fingers, and then sighed. "We're living together, Suki. Everyone in this tribe knows what goes on in our igloo after dark," he said, and Suki flushed. "And after the baby's born, they'll know that you got pregnant a long time before we got engaged. You were right when you said that now isn't the best time for a wedding. And even if we did get married now, we wouldn't be able to hide anything. I just don't see the rush."

"The rush is that this baby is not going to be born a bastard. It's going to have its father's name, and his protection. I won't allow it to be mocked and whispered about because some stupid man couldn't finish what he started!" Suki exclaimed, the tears welling up again and the anger resurfacing.

Sokka flinched as though slapped, and then he took in a quick breath. "Oh, Tui, Suki. I didn't know," he breathed, and then cupped her face between his hands. "I should track your father down and rip his heart out for what he did to you."

Suki swatted his hands away, and shook her head fiercely. "This isn't about my father, Sokka. This is about you, me, and our baby. Don't try to twist this around…"

"I'm not, I promise." He stepped closer to her again, and planted his palms securely on her shoulders. "Listen to me, Suki. I _will_ marry you. I will _never _run away. I will never abandon you or our baby. I love both of you like you're an extension of myself; I couldn't survive without you. Our child will always be protected, loved, and cared for…I swear it." He leaned down and lightly brushed his lips against hers. "I'm not your father, Suki, and I never will be."

Suki wrapped her arms around Sokka's neck, and then she pressed her lips to his once more. The kiss started gentle, but she was soon frantically moving her lips over his, dipping her tongue inside his mouth, and twining her fingers in his thick, brown hair.

Sokka's breathing hitched, and his hands were suddenly under her parka, dipping beneath the hem of the woolen shirt she wore beneath. And then his gloves were off and his cold fingertips were trailing their way up her belly and over her midriff, before wriggling their way beneath her breast bindings.

Suki gasped and bit down on his earlobe, and then her hands were trailing down to the waistband of his pants. Then suddenly, she stopped moving, and let out a large grunt. "Your damn baby doesn't want me to have any fun," she grumbled, panting. With some effort, Sokka withdrew his hands from her body, and Suki then pressed her palms against her belly.

Sokka struggled to regain his breath, and then chuckled darkly. "Figures," he muttered, lightly flicking the exposed skin of Suki's belly. Suki laughed, and then absently rubbed the area in slow circles.

"I'm sorry, Sokka," she apologized, and reached one hand out to grip one of his. "Hopefully next time there won't be any interruptions." Her breathing had evened out, and she was leaning heavily against the icy wall.

"Oh, there will be. It's always Gran-Gran or the kid, or Beno, or…ugh." Sokka grumbled, and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm going to head outside," Sokka said with a shake of his head, and Suki frowned.  
"Without you parka?" she asked, looking down to where he had tossed the garment. "Aren't you going to freeze?"

"That's kind of the idea," Sokka admitted, and Suki cocked her head to the side in question. "See, I know we aren't going to get a chance to do anything tonight, but my counterpart here…" Sokka trailed off and grinned. "He still thinks he's getting lucky."

Suki glanced down at the man's crotch and then burst out laughing. "Alright, alright. You and your 'counterpart' go outside and cool off," she managed through her laughter, and Sokka shook his head.

_What have I gotten myself into now?_

--

"You seem rather chipper today," Sokka observed dryly, watching Pakku out of the corner of his eye. The man was whistling, for Spirit's sakes, and Pakku did _not _whistle.

"Do I?" The man asked with a self satisfied smirk. "Hmm…" He chuckled to himself, and then pointed at one of the men working at the wall. "What do you think you're doing? Straighten your shoulders! Move with the water!" he shouted, and the man hastily corrected his position. "Honestly, you'd think they were never taught properly," he grumbled, but the grin was still present.

"So, what exactly got you into this dandy mood?" Sokka asked, and Pakku's grin widened.  
"Let's just say I have your betrothed to thank. Once Kana and I were alone, I was able to talk some sense into her."  
"I doubt that," Sokka replied dryly, and Pakku chuckled.

"Well, we came to a bit of an understanding," Pakku amended, and Sokka raised a brow. "She may have done most of the talking…er, shouting," Pakku finally clarified, and Sokka nodded. That sounded like his Gran-Gran. "But then we made up…and that was almost sixty years in the making!" he added with a wink, and Sokka cringed.

"I don't even want to know," he said with a shudder. Pakku chuckled again and clapped him on the back roughly while Sokka repressed the urge to vomit. Images swam into his mind- images of wrinkled old bodies and cracked old tongues, and touching…way too much touching! Sokka shuddered again, and shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts.

"The wall is coming along well," Pakku finally said, mercifully changing the subject. "As for your city… I know that you disagree, but the palace really should be built first…"

Sokka clenched his teeth. "How many times do I have to tell you, Master Pakku, there will be no palace here. In my tribe, we are all equals. I shouldn't be given anything more than anyone else simply because my father was chosen to be the Chieftain of this tribe. I want all the houses built the same."

Pakku shook his head in disapproval. "No. You are _not_ equals. For any of your decisions to be obeyed, your people must respect you. You cannot treat them like they are on par with you, Chief Sokka. They need to admire you, and aspire to be you!"

"And my character isn't enough to achieve that? You honestly think that they'll respect me if I flaunt my position? I am lucky that I was allowed to take on the mantle of Chieftain. The title should have been given to an older man, one worked and fought alongside my father. They deserve the castle, the bigger house, the status… not me."

Pakku was silent for a moment as he considered Sokka's words. "You fought and bled alongside the Avatar. You kept him safe in all of your journeys together. You survived where he and your other companions did not. You are strong, Sokka. You are deserving of the title of Chieftain, and don't let me ever hear you say otherwise."

Sokka paused, and then his eyes narrowed. "No palace."

He could hear Pakku repress a groan of frustration. "Yes, palace. My water benders are the ones who are building your city; they take orders from me, not you! If I say there is going to be a palace, there will be a palace."

"And I am the chieftain, and you are to respect my wishes," Sokka retorted through clenched teeth, and the two men glared at one another.

Pakku finally sighed and backed down. "Fine, then." When he saw Sokka's eyes light with triumph, the smirk returned. "We'll compromise." The victory in Sokka's eyes faded away, and was replaced by suspicion. Pakku repressed the urge to chuckle. "Your home will be built in the center of the city, like the palace of the Northern Water Tribe. It is just how things are done. It will not be as lavish nor as large as the Northern palace, but it will be larger and more intricate in design than the other homes around you."

When Sokka opened his mouth to protest, Pakku lifted a hand. "Let me finish!" he snapped, and Sokka reluctantly complied. "In the future, people will come to visit you or your descendents. Ambassadors from other nations or even the next avatar may be among those visitors. You must have appropriate accommodations for them. And for them to stay anywhere outside of the palace would simply be an insult."

Sokka deflated, and grudgingly nodded his head. "Point taken."

"Also, your family will grow. When you bring your sister back, you will need a room for her. Rooms must also be provided for whatever children she is to have in the future. There must also be enough space for you, your grandmother, your wife, and your children. Of course, you must also leave enough room for grandchildren, as well as your sister's grandchildren. In fact, you will need an entire wing just for family."

"Fine," Sokka muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Resistance was futile, he had realized too late. Pakku would have his way whether he liked it or not.

"And then, of course, if you have personal friends you want to stay with you, you may want to add on a wing for them as well…"

At this, Sokka's eyes darkened and he held up a hand. "There are no friends, Pakku," he said quietly, an undercurrent of pain in his voice as he remembered what could have been. "The guest wing will suffice."

Pakku stood in respectful silence for a moment, remembering and mourning the dead alongside the young chieftain. Then he cleared his throat and continued. "And of course, there must be the kitchens, the banquet hall, servant's quarters…"

"No servants!" Sokka practically roared, and Pakku raised his eyebrows.

"Who will cook for you?"

"Gran-Gran."

"And the hundreds of guests you may have staying with you one day?"

Sokka paused, and when he spoke his voice was a lot less certain. "Gran-Gran?"

"And who will clean the hundreds of rooms? Your elderly grandmother?

"Um…"

"There will be servant's quarters," Pakku said with finality, and Sokka cringed. "Oh, don't worry. Chief Arnook has already given me permission to being as many people as I believe we will need from the Northern Water Tribe." He paused, and then continued. "And then, of course, you will need to have some gardens…"

"In the middle of all this ice?" Sokka demanded, and Pakku raised a brow.

"Ice gardens, Sokka," he replied dryly. "You don't exactly have a Spirit Oasis to work with." Sokka rolled his eyes, and Pakku continued. "Waterbenders will shape a whole variety of flowers out of ice, and with constant maintance, we might even be able to add a fountain or two."

"Okay, okay!" Sokka finally exclaimed with a huff. "I get it. You have permission to build your damn palace." When Pakku's smirk widened, Sokka frowned. "But it is going to be built _last._"

"No. It will be built first, and your people can live there with you until their own homes are completed. It is a sound plan and you know it, so don't bother arguing with me."

Sokka opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed. "Why do I feel like I just lost control of my tribe?" he grumbled, and Pakku chuckled.

"Part of being a good leader is to learn how to take orders."

Sokka crossed his arms over his chest. "Part of being a good leader is knowing when to send grumpy, bossy old men who corrupt my people's Gran-Grans far, far, away," he muttered, and a water whip lightly flicked him. The action was so reminiscent of Katara that Sokka's throat closed up.

"Watch your tongue, boy," Pakku replied, his tone surprisingly light.

Sokka wouldn't have been able to speak even if he tried.

--

"Have any changes been made to my father's will since Zuko was banished?" Azula asked lowly, pressing a pouch bulging with golden coins into the Fire Sage's hand. The man looked between the pouch to Azula and then back again. The young princess watched with narrowed eyes as he weighed it in palm, and then withdrew a piece so that he could examine it with his eyes.

"Yes," He finally said, and swiftly tucked the pouch of coins inside of his robes. "You were to be the heir, unless Prince Zuko's banishment was reversed," he replied lowly, glancing around him to ensure that the other Fire Sages would not learn of his treachery.

Azula watched the man with a faint smile, knowing the futility of his efforts. He would meet his end, eventually. Traitors always did. "And have there been any changes since Zuko killed the avatar?" she inquired, and the man stood silent. With a sigh, Azula withdrew another pouch from her robes and tossed it at the man.

"Yes, Princess. He was very secretive about it, but I believe that he named you as his heir." Azula grinned, and then nodded her head to him.

"Thank you for your time," she said, and then turned on her heel. "Dispose of him," she said lowly to the guard who had escorted her to the temple, and the armored man bowed hastily. The Fire Sage's neck had been broken before he had even been given the chance to scream.

"My coins," Azula said, and the guard hastily retrieved the two pouches from the Fire Sage's robes and then dropped them into Azula's waiting palm.

"Ah, greed," the Princess sighed prettily, and then shook her head. "Get rid of the evidence," she instructed, swiftly tucking the pouches back into the belt at her waist. She then exited the temple, a smirk distorting her pretty features.

_You shouldn't have messed with me, Ozai. _

_--_

**_A/N: _**Well...I made it a little fluffier for you, and although I didn't add the lemon you guys have been asking for, I did throw in a little bit of lime. So...**please review!** Thanks. Also, I want to say a large thank you to LegolasEstelstar for giving me so incredibly many thoughtful reviews on almost every chapter. Thanks again!


	9. Chapter 8

Katara sighed listlessly, and fiddled with the silk of her dress. The material was too soft, too slippery. She missed the feel of worn cotton beneath her calloused fingertips; missed the bumps and snags that had made the outfit she used to wear her own. Kin moved up beside her, a worried frown puckering her brow.

"Is there anything you need, Lady?" the woman asked, her kindness and compassion evident in her voice. Katara was grateful to the woman for all that she had done for her, but La, she wished that that she could be alone. "Are you feeling ill? Would you like something to eat?"

Katara shook her head emphatically, and repressed the urge to sigh. _Now I know how the gang felt about my constant mothering…_ Katara swallowed hard and pushed the memories of her family to the back of her mind. If she were to continue to dwell on the past, she would never be able to bring herself to face the future..

"_When you became a mother, Katara, you lost all rights to being a weak person. It is a mother's duty to push forwards where others cave in; to continue to try no matter how many times she fails. It is her responsibility to love unconditionally, to protect unquestioningly, and to never give up."_

Iroh's words played through her mind once again, as they had for the past few weeks. There could be no more useless dwelling on the past; no more weeping for what could have been. She absolutely had to go forwards now, if only for Nozomi's sake.

Katara took a deep breath, and then expelled it slowly. "I'm fine, Kin," she said softly, smoothing her skirt and attempting to ignore just how foreign the silk felt against her skin. "I'm just…" Katara shrugged lightly, unable to finish the sentence.

"Just what?" Kin asked a heartbeat later, and Katara sighed.

"It's difficult to explain," the Water Tribe woman replied quietly, restlessly rising from her seat and moving to stand by the large, glass window that dominated the Western facing portion of her room. She rested her fingertips against the glass, warmed by the heat of the Fire Nation Summer.

"We have time," Kin prompted gently, and Katara turned to spare the woman a ghost of the smile that had once been. She then looked back out the window, and sighed once again.

The gardeners toiled in the garden below her, working diligently to keep creamy white roses from wilting in the summer's heat. A servant child was feeding turtleducks with scraps of bread, her mussed black hair gleaming in the sun's withering rays. All around her, everyone was living, breathing, unquestioning of their existence and their purpose in life. Yet she was trapped in the cage of her own mind, living in her past, too full of pain in the present to even contemplate looking forward to the future.

"It's like… like I'm always looking out a window," she finally managed to breathe, and she flattened her palm against the warm glass. "I watch everyone go by; see them interact with each other, but I'm always so far away… It's like there's this invisible wall that separates me from actually _living…_" Katara paused and shook her head. "I'm not making any sense, am I?" she asked after a moment, managing to tear her gaze away from the scene below her.

Kin shook her head, and gave the young woman a reassuring smile. "You're making perfect sense," she replied, and Katara frowned before sighing again.

She turned her attention back to the window, and a small smile tugged on her lips when she saw a familiar little body toddle out to the garden. Nozomi was dressed in the palest shade of pink, no doubt in an attempt to deflect the sun and save the poor child from withering in the heat. Her soft black curls were pulled back from her face and off of her neck in a bow of a matching color, and her pale little feet were bare.

Zuko strode out after her, and even two stories above them, Katara could see the smile on his features as he watched their daughter play in the grass. He rested his hands on his hips, his red cotton tunic blowing in the breeze, his feet spread a shoulder's width apart. How many times had Katara watched him stand in a similar position, back in the early days of their relationship? How many times had his eyes been full of love and affection for her, rather than for the child that they had adopted?

Katara swallowed hard, and she pressed her fingertips to the glass once again as she allowed soft, sweet memories to wash over her for the first time in weeks.

_Zuko looked up and met Katara's eyes, making her smile widen a fraction. "You make a good dad," she said softly, and before she knew what was happening, Zuko had leaned forward and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. _

"_You're a good mom," he replied before she could protest, and then placed the sleeping child in Katara's arms. "We should get some sleep," he said, and then promptly laid down. Katara stared at him for an instant, chuckled under her breath, and went to stand. _

_Before she had the chance to, Zuko's hand wrapped itself around her arm. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, and when Katara turned to him in confusion, he shook his head. "You don't honestly think I laid out these blankets for myself, do you?" _

_Katara opened her mouth, but whatever it was she was going to say went unsaid. A heartbeat later, she lay curled against Zuko's body, Nozomi cradled in the curve of her own. They had truly become a family, in every sense of the word. _

Katara blinked several times to regain her bearings, and then pressed a hand to her aching chest. How could that boy- the boy who had held her so tenderly, who had carried a screaming child in his arms to give her the rest that her body had so desperately needed, who had been so considerate of her every want and need- be the same man who crushed the hope of the world? All of that…every kiss, every touch, every whispered word…it couldn't have all been a farce. He had to have cared for her, at least at some point.

And in all honesty, what good did his marrying her do him? Surely it didn't endear him to his father, and that couldn't have been a part of one of his sister's plans… perhaps that had truly been a choice that he had made on his own. Perhaps he truly had loved her… Maybe he still did.

Katara wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the sudden shiver that ran down her spine at the realization. It wasn't as unpleasant as she would have thought that it would have been, and maybe that was what had scared her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and looked out the window again.

Nozomi was in Zuko's arms, and he was spinning her around quickly. Despite herself, Katara smiled at the sight. It reminded her of the first time she had seen Zuko do such a thing, in their little room above the tea house in the Fire Nation capital. She had been furious with him at the time, as she had been scared half to death at the thought that her child would come to any harm. But then Zuko had leaned in close to Nozomi and stage whispered, 'Oops. Mama caught us,' with the most adorable expression on his face. She'd had to pretend to be angry after that, and her had mouth kept twitching as she scolded him.

Another wave of emotion filled her breast, and Katara swallowed hard against the clenching of her throat. She recognized this particular emotion, she realized with something akin to horror. Tenderness swelled within her as she watched the murderer swing her child around in his blood stained hands.

"_You will never be able to forget, Katara, and thus you will probably never be able to forgive my nephew for what he did. However, for the sake of your child you must find a way to reconcile, even in the smallest of ways."_

Katara shuddered and wrapped her arms more securely about her body. She had resigned herself to a form of reconciliation with Zuko- politeness, the common courtesy that one would extend to a stranger. What she hadn't expected was for a stirring of her old feelings for him to begin.

Tenderness was far more dangerous than hatred, Katara knew. For hatred could only lead to apathy, but tenderness… tenderness could lead to love. And she could never allow herself to love again.

Her heart wouldn't be able to stand the pain.

-- )0( --

The palace was in chaos. Militia rushed about the halls, the clanking of their armor filling the place with noise. Harried servants hurried about, their whispers and sharp cries adding to the tumult. Somewhere, someone was crying, and several others were shouting.

Nozomi clutched the collar of Zuko's tunic and buried her head in his neck. "Scared, Dada," the child whimpered, and Zuko absently patted her back. Few of the servants seemed to note his appearance, but the ones who did hurriedly scurried away from him.

"What is going on in here?" Zuko demanded, grabbing the arm of the next guard to rush past him.

The man had the decency to pause and bow, although his attention was obviously elsewhere. "The Fire Lord is dead, Your Highness," the man said quickly, and Zuko stopped moving, stopped breathing.

"Wh-What?" he finally managed past his dry throat, his thoughts suddenly in a whirlwind. Ozai…dead… How could that even be possible? Wasn't he just alive and well, several hours before? It must be some kind of trick… the man couldn't possibly go down that easily! If he could, Zuko would have taken him out himself long ago.

"My condolences," the guard said, and Zuko blinked. _Condolences…right. I'm supposed to be upset about this._

Zuko swallowed, and then waved once in dismissal for the guard to leave. The man hastily did as he was bid… a bit too hastily, perhaps. That in and of itself was enough to arouse Zuko's suspicions. Perhaps Azula had already been made Fire Lady, and he was now merely living on borrowed time. Perhaps the entire household was aware of that fact as well, and that was why they were all keeping their distance.

"Scared, Dada," Nozomi repeated, clutching her little fingers tighter about the collar of his shirt. Zuko started slightly, abruptly remembering the child in his arms.

"Don't be afraid," Zuko murmured, lightly patting her back. "You are a daughter of fire. You have nothing to fear." It was an ago old whisper, one that was recited by all Fire Nation parents. It was one that spoke of pride and arrogance, but Zuko didn't quite realize that at the moment. He was merely repeating what he had heard all through his childhood.

"I doubt she understands that, Zuko." Zuko turned at the dry voice, and his brows tugged together when he caught sight of Mai leaning against a pillar.

"Mai."

"Besides," Mai pushed herself away from the wall and walked towards him, her gait slow and measured. "She probably has a great deal to fear." She was at Zuko's side now, and her gaze flickered between his child and himself. "The world we live in his a terrifying place."

Zuko scowled, and unconsciously shifted so that most of Nozomi's body was obscured from Mai's view. It wasn't that he thought Mai would ever hurt the girl. In fact, he probably trusted the moody teen more than any other member of his father's court, save for Iroh. It was the cutting truth of the girl's words that he was attempting to shield his daughter from.

"I will protect her," Zuko replied harshly, determination glinting in his eyes. "Nothing will ever, _ever_ hurt her."

Mai paused for a moment, as though she were digesting his words. Then, she lowered her eyes briefly. "You won't always be able to, Zuko," she finally said, and her eyes were black steel when she looked up at him again. "There will always be something lurking in the shadows. Vipers robed in silk will always be watching her, waiting for her to stumble; waiting to strike. She will always have great cause to be afraid.

"But the strength she will one day have will be from overcoming that fear, not from being a daughter of fire." Mai finished, and Zuko's brows drew together once more.

"When did you become so wise?"

Mai chuckled softly, the sound strange and foreign coming from her usually stoic person. "I've grown up in this court, Zuko. I speak from experience."

Zuko frowned, and then gave a slow nod. He understood, to a degree. He too had been raised among the vipers of the court, but his mother's love and strength shielded him from those who would cause him harm. After her disappearance, Iroh had become his protector, and had saved him from having to learn to deal with the court itself. Although he himself had never had to struggle to survive in the opulent world in which he had lived, he had observed others from afar. Others like Mai, who had been on their own, and out of necessity had become cold, stony beings.

"I take it you've heard about the Fire Lord?" Mai's words jerked him from his musings, and back to the chaos that surrounded them. He nodded slowly, and Mai gave a slight, smirk of a smile. "Hm. Odd isn't it? He's sitting at his desk writing military instructions one moment, and the next…" she moved one hand in a cutting motion to complete the sentence.

Zuko made a noise of agreement, and absently patted Nozomi's back again to distract himself from thinking too much on what Ozai's death meant for him. "The Fire Sages are going to be reading his will later on… Ozai never gave any verbal instruction as to who would inherit the throne. This is the first time that's ever happened, to my knowledge."

"You mean he actually didn't flat out leave the Fire Nation to Azula?" Zuko demanded quickly, and then regretted his outburst. Several servants had turned to look his way, and he gave them his best glare. Quickly, those that had stared hat him turned away and busied themselves with other tasks. "Bastard is toying with us even after his death," he muttered, and a corner of Mai's lips turned upwards.

"Be careful what you say, Zuko. You're lucky I feel the same way about Ozai as you. If I hadn't…" She trailed off, but her meaning was clear. Zuko's eyes narrowed, and then widened in understanding. She was instructing him; preparing him for the underhanded world that he was now going to spend the rest of his life in.

"I wouldn't speak that way around anyone else. I trust you, Mai," he said, and it wasn't until he spoke the words aloud that he realized that they were completely true.

Mai's face softened at his words, and he could see a bit of a smile work its way onto her pale lips. A second later, however, her face had dropped into its usual stoic mask and her pleasure was effectively concealed. "Don't give your trust away so readily, Zuko. Self preservation is first and foremost in everyone's mind. If their lives are on the line, even those who love you may betray you."

Zuko nodded slowly, and his eyes dropped to the floor. "And then they will spend the rest of their lives regretting that action," he replied evenly, Katara's face suddenly filling his mind. There was silence for several moments, and Nozomi's deep breathing alerted Zuko that the child had fallen asleep somewhere during the course of their conversation. "I'd better get her to bed," he finally managed to say past the lump in his throat. He nodded to Mai in parting, and then turned on his heel to head to the nursery.

"Zuko!" Mai called, halting the prince in his tracks. He turned slightly so that he could face her once more, and was surprised to note that the mask had slipped off once again. Mai's face was etched in a combination of sorrow, understanding, and determination. "Trust is a fragile thing, and can be broken very easily. But love is something so much deeper. Betrayal can shatter trust, but it can only injure love." She paused, and took a deep breath. "Next time you see her, remember that."

Zuko stared at the young woman in front of him for several moments, taking in the raw emotion on her face and realizing just what that bit of advice had cost her. By her own admission, she harbored deep feelings for him. It was only natural that she would want his relationship with Katara to fail so that she could stand a chance. But rather than trying to make him realize that his wife hated him, she had given him hope that he and Katara could have a future together. It must have cost her dearly.

"Thank you," Zuko murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. Mai nodded once, and then carefully schooled her features back into their usual bored mask. She bowed slightly, and then quickly turned and walked away.

Zuko stood there for a moment more, before he too turned and made his way back to the nursery. And has he walked, he came to understand two things. The first was that one day Katara would come to love him again.

The second… Mai truly loved him.

-- )0( --

"Ah, Zuzu. So good of you to join us," Azula greeted smoothly from where she reclined in her seat. Her legs were crossed, her chin propped up in one hand while her other arm dangled lazily from the arm of the chair. Her eyes followed her brother's form as he took in the absence of the Fire Sages, and then made his way to his seat.

"Azula," he greeted simply, his gaze passing over Mai, who sat on one side of her, to Ty Lee, who sat on the other. He gave her friends a polite, stiff bow, and then his eyes locked with hers again.

"You know, you didn't really have to come," she said, a smirk lifting the corners of her mouth upwards. "We all know who Father Dearest chose to succeed him, in the end." Her eyes narrowed when Zuko lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and then she let out a bored sigh. "My, those Fire Sages do like to take their time, don't they?"

"They're probably just readying the papers for my execution." Zuko's dry comment surprised Azula, and made her chuckle.

"Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid, Zuko?" Azula said in reply, and her brother shrugged again.

"You killed Ozai, didn't you? What's to stop you from killing me as well?" For the second time that day, Zuko had managed to shock her. His bluntness was unexpected, as was his cleverness in figuring her out. Although, she mused, it really wasn't all that surprising. Zuko wasn't quite as much of a moron as she made him out to be.

"You have behaved yourself rather well since you arrived. Father, on the other hand, issued demands that were…unacceptable," she replied with a wry twist of her lips and a flick of her hair. She could sense Mai stiffen beside her at the affirmation of Zuko's suspicions. No doubt the girl realized that the poison she'd given her friend had been used to kill Ozai. Azula's smirk widened at the realization. It had been a stroke of genius on her part, really, to use Mai's extensive knowledge of poison to kill her father. Not only had she been able to murder Ozai without bloodshed, but now if the poison were to be traced the trail would lead to Mai. Her friend would suffer the consequences while she could remain Fire Lady.

"You mean your marriage to Han Yu," Zuko replied to her earlier statement, and Azula tapped her fingernails together as she refocused her attention to the conversation she and her brother had been having only moments before.

"Ah, so you _have_ heard about our cousin," she replied, her thoughts traveling to the pig that had dared to attempt to force her hand in marriage. He was a handsome man, to be sure; handsomer than her father could ever hope to be. In addition, he suave and charming, and his attentions might have swept a lesser woman off her feet.

But Azula was no mere woman, and so she could see past his debonair exterior and to the beast that lurked within him. His eyes held a flicker of madness; his large, sensual hands were covered in blood. In addition, he was after _her_ crown. The crown that she had sweat and slaved over her entire life. _He will never touch it! If at all possible, he won't even be able to glimpse it! _Azula cast a sidelong glance towards Mai. _She'll need to make me more of that poison. Han Yu won't go away on his own, not now that he's so close to my crows;; he'll have to die. He can join Father in hell._

"I've probably heard more than you have," Zuko said, and Azula had to force her focus back to her brother again. It took a second for his words to register in her mind, and when they finally did her smirk snapped back into place.

"I doubt that," Azula replied dryly.

"I've heard enough," Zuko amended with another shrug. "From what I've heard, I wouldn't even wish him on you."

Azula's brow furrowed at his words, and she pursed her lips. "How kind," she replied sardonically.

The heavy wooden doors were pushed open, and Azula quickly readjusted herself in her seat. _Posture,_ she reminded herself, firmly planting both feet on the floor and lifting her chin into the air. _I am Fire Lady now._ A small troupe of Fire Sages made their way inside, the hems of their robes making swishing noises as they dragged along the marble floor.

"My Lord, My Lady," the head sage greeted, bowing deeply towards the Princess and her brother. Azula scowled lightly at the fact that Zuko had been recognized before her, but she quickly smoothed her brow and put her irritation behind her. "I offer you my deepest condolences on their dark day. Your father was a wonderful man, and a great leader, and I assure you that the whole of the Fire Nation will miss him dearly."

Azula could have sworn that she heard Zuko scoff, and her lips lifted into a smile at the sound. "Yes, yes. We're all very sad," Azula said dismissively, and her smirk widened when she watched the Fire Sage's Adam's apple bob. "Let's move on," she continued with a wave of her hand, and the Fire Sage's mouth dropped open in surprise.

The man quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat, before he quickly laid out a scroll on the table. "Well, there is the funeral to be discussed, of course. I'm sure you would like to get that out of the way." He spoke rapidly, his words melting into each other. _He's afraid. Good. He should be._

"Ah, yes. The funeral. Just handle everything the same way Azulon's was. I think that should just about cover it, don't you agree, Zuko?" she said, turning towards her brother. The idiot had the grace and presence of mind to nod in concordance with her statement.

"Uh- yes, well, I suppose that is…a good way of…" The Fire Sage was scrambling for words, obviously disturbed by the fact that Azula cared less about what happened to her father's body. She wondered absently just how upset the man would be if he knew that she had orchestrated Ozai's death. "Um... what date do you want to have the funeral?"

Azula scowled again, and then sighed. "To be frank, I don't care about the specifics. Work them out yourself," Azula snapped, and the Fire Sage quickly bowed. "Oh, just be sure that it doesn't fall on the date of the comet's arrival. That should be saved for the coronation."

"Yes, Lady. Of course, Lady. Now, speaking of the coronation, I suppose it is time we read the late Fire Lord's final will." He paused for a moment, glancing between Azula and Zuko before he hastily pulled another scroll from the basket that another Fire Sage was carrying.

The Fire Sage rolled out the scroll, and glanced nervously between Azula and Zuko again. When he caught Azula's glower, he quickly diverted his attention back to the scroll. He cleared his throat, licked his lips, and then began to read.

"_Should this scroll be read, it means that I have suffered an unexpected and probably a most untimely death. I am sure that my children are deeply afflicted with grief. _" The Fire Sage paused, and then his eyes flickered up to Azula and Zuko once more. Azula gave the man a cold smile, and he hastily continued reading.

"_And I am also certain that the matter of my successor is first and foremost on their minds._" Another pause, and another smirk from Azula. "_The Princess Azula is to be the next Fire Lord._" The Fire Sage stopped speaking, and Azula had to bite her tongue to keep from releasing a cry of victory. She watched Zuko slump over in his chair, and her chest swelled.

"_However,_" the sage continued, and Azula's gaze snapped back to the old man. "_Should she not meet the following requirements, Princess Azula may not bear the crown of Fire Lord. The conditions are as follows: Azula must marry her second cousin, Han Yu. Should she marry anyone else, or fail to marry, the title of Fire Lord shall not be bestowed on her. If Azula should marry Han Yu, and he dies before a male heir is born, the title of Fire Lord shall be stripped from her. Should Azula fail to produce an heir of Fire Nation blood, the title of Fire Lord shall be stripped from her."_

By now, Azula was breathing hard, and she could feel the fire in her blood singing. Every fiber of her being longed to set the scroll that the Fire Sage read from aflame. _Damn Ozai! Damn him for realizing that I killed him! Damn him for getting the last laugh!_

"_Should Azula fail to meet her requirements, she shall merely be Fire Lady."_ At this, Azula stopped agonizing and began to pay attention once more. Merely 'Fire Lady?' How, by Agni…

"_Prince Zuko will then inherit the position of Fire Lord. However, his influence will only extend to domestic policy, the issues of the court, and dealings of the citizens of the Fire Nation and those of its colonies. Princess Azula will inherit the position of Fire Lady, but her influence will only extend to the military. The Fire Sages shall be in charge of dispensing money from the treasury to the Fire Lord and Fire Lady so that no dispute over funds will arise. _

"_Should Zuko die, the same requirements as listed above must be met for Azula to become a full fledged Fire Lord. Should those requirements not be met after Zuko's death, Han Yu shall inherit the title of Fire Lord. Should he also meet an untimely demise, my granddaughter, Nozomi, shall take the throne when she comes of age._

"_These are my final commands, and they must be heeded."_

The Fire Sage was trembling in terror now, Azula noted through her fury. _Bastard! How could you do this to me? I will not marry your monster of a cousin! I will not! _But it was painfully obvious that she could never become Fire Lord if she did not, unless…

Azula cast a sidelong glance towards her brother, who sat stiff and rigid in his chair. She had never told her father about the information that Mai and Ty Lee had uncovered in regards to the young man's less than conventional marriage. Since she had never told her father, the marriage contract between he and the wench was still very much intact, and Azula knew that Zuko would want to keep it that way.

"I will not marry Han Yu," Azula informed the Fire Sage, her voice level now that she had decided on a course of action. "Prepare for a joint coronation. My brother and I will inherit the throne together," she said, and she could feel the weight of Zuko's stare.

_If that peasant is what you want, brother, so be it. But to allow her to have the protection of your name, you must become my puppet. You will do as I say… In reality, behind the scenes, I will be the true Fire Lord. _

**_A/N: _**Sorry it took me so ong to update, but I had to completely re-wrtite this chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked. (Takes moment for pointless rant here:) How much did the ending of the finale stink? I mean, I've learned to like Maiko. When it's done correctly, it's actually a pretty good pairing. My complaint was that it happened way too fast, way too unexpectedly, and wasn't written very well until the last five or six episodes. What really bothered me about the finale is that we didn't find out what happened with Ursa! Gr! The end of the series, and they leave the whole Ursa issue with 'Where is my mother?' Gah! (rant has now ended)

Anyways, please review!!


	10. Chapter 9

Zuko pounded on the door to Katara's room, grumbling threats and curses under his breath as he did so. He could practically feel the amusement of the guards that flanked either side of the door, and actually caught one smirking at him. Zuko made a mental note to assign the man to prison duty later.

"This isn't funny, Kin!" Zuko exclaimed, pounding harder. "Open the damn door."

"Absolutely not!" came the angry, determined voice from within and Zuko growled with irritation. The guard to his left snickered, and Zuko scowled. Prison duty was too good for the bastard. Zuko was stripping him of his title and sending him to work at the docks. Or maybe the Red Lantern district. Or maybe he'd hire the man out as a farmhand…

"Kin! If you don't let me in there, I swear on my mother's grave that I'll…I'll…"

"Ha!" Kin scoffed, and Zuko felt his ears burn. "Empty threats! After what you did last time you barged in here, you should be grateful that I haven't taken a knife to your royal gems!"

Zuko winced and gulped, and caught the guard's amused smile out of the corner of his eye. He growled deep in his throat, and threw the man a dark glare. Caught, the guard straightened his spine and stared straight ahead, although his mouth continued to twitch in amusement.

"That is none of your business!" Zuko retorted childishly, and immediately regretted his words.

He could hear Kin's indignant huff from across the door, and he could have sworn that he heard the giggling of girls from within. Zuko glowered. "None of my business! You put the poor little sparrow in my charge, threaten me with my life if anything happens to her, and then you tell me that her welfare is none of my business! Why, if you were still a little boy, I'd put you over my knee, that's what I'd do! And your poor dear mother! What would she think of all this?"

"She'd tell me that I'd need to go apologize," Zuko ground out, glaring daggers through the door. "And that is exactly what I am trying to do!"

"Well then, I'll inform my lady of your apology. Good day." Zuko heard the sound of feet moving away from the door, and he cursed.

"Damnit, Kin, get back here! As your Fire Lord, I command you to open this door!"

"And as the woman who helped to raise you, I have the right to say no."

"Kin!" Zuko shouted, and several of the servants that were walking down the hall shot him wary glances. He turned towards them and made a violent gesture for them to leave, accompanied by a low growl. The small group quickly scampered away, and Zuko rested his head against the door.

"Please, Kin. Please let me in," he tried, hoping that the softening of his tone would allow him entrance.

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Zuko thought that he had one. But then Kin just had to pipe up with that stubborn voice of hers. "No," she replied, and Zuko growled low and deep in his throat.

"_Damn, _Kin! I'm not going to try anything! I have news that I have to give Katara that I can't trust any of the servants to relay!"

"What about your uncle?" Kin insisted stubbornly, and Zuko scowled.

"Maybe since it's _my _news, _I'm _the one who should deliver it to her!"

"Open the door, Kin." Katara's soft voice took Zuko by surprise, and he merely stood, shell shocked that she had stood up for him. The last time he'd seen her…

_Katara rolled to the farthest edge of the bed and buried her face in her pillow. "I hate you… I hate you…" she continued to murmur as she wept._

Zuko winced at the memory, and shook his head to clear his troubled thoughts. He heard Kin stutter from behind the door, obviously not too keen on Katara's order. Katara must have given her a look, however, for he heard the aging woman sigh and the bolts that she had thrust across the door shut squeak open. Finally, the door itself swung out on its hinges, and provided Zuko with a view of a very angry, very distraught Kin.

"Be on your best behavior, young man," she ordered with her index finger raised, and Zuko had to repress the urge to wince.

"Come into my sitting room, Zuko," Katara said softly, and before Zuko had the chance to even glance at her, she was gone in a swish of blue silk. He followed her dumbly, keenly aware of Kin's presence close behind him. When he entered the room and saw Katara for the first time in weeks, he felt his knees go weak.

The young woman was wrapped in the blue robes that he had purchased for her after their 'incident,' the belt cinching at her waist made her appear shapelier than she had before… Or maybe she had matured in the weeks that he had seen her. She was, after all, not quite through puberty yet.

She was staring out the window, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, which Zuko noted had also filled out somewhat since the last time that he had seen her. It was truly amazing what just a little over a month could do. She looked lost, and somewhat lonely as she stood there, her brown hair falling down over her shoulders, her blue eyes distant and sad. After what felt like an eternity, she finally turned to look at him, and let out a soft, slow breath.

"Please leave us Kin," she requested softly, and Zuko felt his mouth drop slightly in surprise. Surely she would want constant supervision, what with what he had done the last time he'd entered her chambers. Apparently, Kin was equally surprised.

"My Lady…" the woman protested, and Katara held up her hand.

"There are some things that are meant only for Zuko's ears," she said, and Zuko watched as Kin's hands bunched around her robes in worry. Katara tossed the woman a weary smile to reassure her, and then inclined her head to the door. "Please?"

At long last, Kin heaved out a sigh and nodded before she left the room and closed the door behind her. Now that they were alone, the tension descended, thick and uncomfortable. Katara had turned back to the window again, as though she were mentally steeling herself for the conversation that would transpire.

Zuko cleared his throat, and Katara's eyes landed on him in a quick, smooth motion. "You…" Zuko trailed off, suddenly feeling very foolish and oddly vulnerable. "You look beautiful," he finally managed, and he watched as Katara's lips turn up slightly at the corners in a wry smile. It was not the youthful, carefree, hopeful smile that she had worn a lifetime before. Rather it was bitter, jaded, and filled with worldly knowledge. Zuko resisted the urge to cringe.

"I'm glad I meet your approval," she said dryly, and Zuko sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Katara…" he began, but the young woman raised a hand and he quieted.

She paused for a moment, visibly gathering herself. Then, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. "You took away my water bending," she stated, her voice oddly flat and lacking accusation.

"I had no choice," Zuko replied quickly. "It was one of the few conditions that allowed you to stay here rather than in the prisons. It was for your own good," he said, and watched as Katara sighed and glanced away.

"With you, everything's for my own good, isn't it?" she asked, and he squirmed. "Even if it brings me nothing but pain," she added, her voice lower and softer.

"I'm sorry," Zuko whispered, and Katara crossed her arms over her chest again.

"You lied to me."

"Yes," Zuko merely replied, unable to justify himself any longer. He deserved her hatred.

"You betrayed my family."

Zuko swallowed hard, and nodded slightly. "Yes."

"You killed Aang."

At this, Zuko cringed and bowed his head. He didn't need to be reminded of that simple fact. Almost every night since he had murdered the avatar, the bald, twelve year old monk had appeared in his dreams. Sometimes, he dreamed of things as they had once been, such as the training sessions that had so frustrated him at the time. Other times, he would dream about the stunts the avatar would pull just to make the others laugh. On nights like those, he awoke with an awful, aching hole where his heart should have been. But the worst was when he dreamed of the horror, the betrayal in Aang's eyes when his teacher had killed him.

"Yes," Zuko managed hoarsely, blinking rapidly to hold back the disgraceful urge to weep. Tears would be of no use. No amount of crying could ever restore things to their former beauty and simplicity. Nothing would bring their friends back to life.

He heard Katara sniffle, and he resisted the desire to cross the space between them and crush her in his arms. She would no longer be comforted by his embrace. He chanced a glance up and saw that Katara's face was stony, her jaw set in determination despite the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

"Why?" she whispered hoarsely, and Zuko clenched his hands together so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Azula was going to kill you," he managed past a tight, constricted throat. "I couldn't let you die."

"So you saved my life at the cost of the world?" Katara demanded, and Zuko hung his head.

"If I hadn't saved you, your blood would have been on my hands. I couldn't live with myself knowing that I was the one who killed you." He replied hoarsely, and Katara shook her head and let out a shuddering breath.

"You're selfish," she accused, and Zuko finally chanced a glance up and met her gaze.

"Yes," he readily agreed, and Katara's mouth twisted into another wry little smile as she shook her head. She heaved out another sigh, and then finally met his eyes again.

"Why did you kill him, Zuko? Your father would have been happy with his capture," she finally said pointedly, and Zuko swallowed.

In all honesty, he had acted out of impulse and desperation then. But in the time since, he had constantly ran his mind over his actions. For weeks after the fact, he had questioned his motives. And every time he dared to wonder, he came to realize what his subconscious had known while his heart had been pounding with fear.

"He would have been locked up like an animal for the rest of his life. For the next sixty years or so, the Fire Nation would humiliate him, make him constantly relive his failure. Or worse still, they would find away to induce the Avatar State and kill him then to ensure that another avatar was never born.

"I may have killed Aang, but the avatar has survived. Somewhere, a waterbender was just born- our new avatar. Give the child twelve or thirteen years and it will rise up and help to restore the peace."

Katara stood in stunned silence at the revelation, before she slowly nodded her head in understanding. However, she said nothing to let him know that she accepted his reasoning. Rather, she turned to Zuko, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "It would have been better if you would have let me die," she replied softly, and Zuko could hear the heartbreak in her words.

"Katara, I…"

"You said you have news for me," she interrupted quickly before Zuko could say anything more. The Fire Lord paused for a long moment before heaving out a sigh and nodded.

"You've heard that Azula and I are inheriting the position of Fire Lord jointly?" he queried, and Katara once. Zuko managed a tight smile. "With Ozai gone, the restrictions on you have eased considerably. There is still the matter of the bending suppressants," he said when he saw hope alight in Katara's eyes, and his heart twisted as he watched them dim once more. "However, you are now free to leave your rooms and move about the palace."

Katara blinked, and then gave Zuko a soft, surprised smile. It had been more than he had been hoping for, and his heart warmed at the sight of it. "Really?" she breathed, and Zuko nodded.

"Of course, you don't have unrestricted access… you are barred from certain wings. The nobility's wing, of course, as well as the wing for the Royal Family…" Zuko trailed off, and tossed Katara half of a smile. "Unless I invite you there, of course." He watched as Katara pinked, and firmly shook her head in disapproval.

"Thought so," he murmured, and then shrugged. "I wouldn't advise you to go to the servant's quarters or the kitchens, but I have a feeling that you're going to go there anyway. Oh, the Throne room is off limits as well," he added, remembering the list of places that Katara was not allowed to visit. "Other than that, you can go wherever you want."

"The gardens?" Katara asked, hope once again tinting her voice a happier color.

"Of course. And the nursery," he added, and he saw Katara's eyes begin to fill again, this time not with sorrow, but with happiness.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably at the sight of his wife's wet eyes, and then rubbed the back of his neck with his hands. "But there's a catch," he added, and Katara's face dimmed considerably.

"There always is," she mumbled, and Zuko nodded his head slightly.

"You will have to be escorted everywhere that you go," he said, and Katara scowled. "They are just as much for your own protection as they are for keeping up appearances," he added quickly, and the young woman shook her head slowly.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she replied despondently, "I am a prisoner, after all," she added quietly, and Zuko winced.

To distract himself from the pain her words had caused, Zuko opened the door and ordered Kin to show the bodyguards he had hand selected into the room. When the pair entered, Zuko watched as Katara's sadness seemed to melt away and a genuine sort of happiness settled over her.

"Jee!" She exclaimed brightly, and crossed the space between them in quick even steps. Zuko's gut clench as he watched his wife wrap her arms tightly around the Lieutenant's neck and Jee's amused chuckle cut through him with a knife. "What are you doing here?" she finally demanded as she pulled away, and the man tossed her a whole hearted smile.

"When Zuko came to me and told me that his lovely little wife was in need of a body guard, I couldn't very well refuse. Especially when the Dragon of the West is such a dear friend of mine."

Katara frowned. "Aren't you a little young to belong to that secret society?" she noted shrewdly, and Jee chucked her chin before turning to face Zuko with a grin.

"You sure know how to pick them, Fire Lord," he teased, but his good natured smile fell away when he noticed Katara's lowered eyes and Zuko's shifted stance. "Forgive me," he said quickly, and Katara shook her head.

"There's nothing to forgive," she replied softly, her voice dark with sadness.

Jee met Zuko's eyes over the young woman's head, and Zuko swallowed hard before dropping his gaze. Jee had been right; he'd had absolutely no idea what he was getting into when he married the girl. It had been an impulsive decision, and although he had never regretted it, he had to wonder if things would have gone differently otherwise. If they had entered the throne room merely friends, would still he have killed Aang to save her life? Would the world still be enslaved by his homeland?

"I see," Jee said softly, and gently squeezed the girl's upper arms. Zuko swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, and Jee stepped aside so that Katara could greet her second guard.

Zuko watched Katara as she stared at the man for a second, as though trying to place him. Then, her face changed with recognition. "Ryu!" she exclaimed, apparently remembering the man. Zuko frowned, having not actually met the man face to face himself. However, his Uncle had said that the pair had developed somewhat of an understanding when Katara had been a captive on Azula's ship all those months ago. Iroh had highly recommended the man for the job, thus Zuko had been unable to refuse.

Ryu nodded his head, apparently less comfortable with Katara than Jee was. Katara suddenly chewed on her lip and flushed. "I'm sorry about the whole…" she trailed off and tapped the side of her head to indicate her meaning.

"There is no need to apologize, My Lady," he replied quickly, and gave her a crisp bow. Katara's eyes widened, and Jee laughed heartily before clapping the man on the back.

"Ryu here is just a little formal," he said, and the man glared at the lieutenant.

"Formal my ass," Ryu muttered under his breath. "Lieutenant," he added hastily, and Zuko watched with something akin to happiness as Katara's face stretched into a smile at the pair's good natured bickering. He had been right to assign men she knew to be her escort, Zuko realized. Perhaps it was just what Katara needed.

"I must go," Zuko said, and the levity in the room came to an abrupt halt as everyone assembled turned to face him. "I'm already overdue for a meeting," he excused himself, and the guards bowed to him as he swept out of the chamber. As happy as it made him to see Katara's spirits lifted, it also made his throat close to realize that he was incapable of accomplishing such a feat on his own. He would give anything for Katara to smile at him the way she had at her escorts, for him to wrap her arms around him in even the most platonic embrace.

"Zuko!" Katara's voice stopped him mid stride, and he turned to face her, his gut clenching in anticipation for harsh words or a less than kind parting. However, she surprised him. Her eyes softened slightly, and he could see that she was on the verge of tears again. "Thank you," she whispered.

The words meant so much more to him than he could even begin to express. Those two simple words had reassured him, had let him know that somewhere deep inside she still cared for him. They were the beginning of reconciliation.

Zuko tossed the girl a half smile and nodded once before swiftly departing her room, in a much better mood than he'd been in for a long while. As he passed the impudent guard on the way out, Zuko even decided that the man wouldn't be hired out as a farm hand after all.

--

Sokka stood silent, his mouth agape, as he stared up at the massive ice structure that Pakku had insisted wasn't really a palace. "That thing is bigger than a glacier," he observed dumbly, and Beno chuckled from his place beside Sokka.

"That 'thing' is your house now," he said, and Sokka scowled.

"Don't remind me," he muttered under his breath, and Beno clapped him on the back. "You know, as second in command, you should live there with me," Sokka said a heartbeat later, and Beno winced.

"I'd prefer my hut," he replied, and Sokka shook his head.

Pakku walked up behind the two younger men and frowned. "Stop your whining!" he commanded, and Sokka rolled his eyes. "It isn't half as big as the palace in the Northern Water Tribe; you should be grateful that I let you keep it this small."

"Small?" Sokka exclaimed incredulously, and Pakku glowered.

"Very," he replied staunchly, and Sokka resisted the urge to face palm himself. Or tackle Pakku… But Pakku would most likely win that match by freezing his arms and legs together, and he would be disgraced before his entire tribe. Sokka sighed at the thought, and clenched his fists at his side rather than fulfilling either desire.

"Sokka!" Suki's voice called out to him from across the chaos that had once been a small and peaceful village. The foundations for the city had been dug, leaving the icy ground uneven and rocky in certain places. The tribe's people had already dissembled their sealskin tents and destroyed their igloos, and had begun packing their belongings for their temporary move to the palace.

In addition to the mess that had caused, most of the Southern Water Tribe men had spent the past few weeks hunting in order to fill their homes- and the palace rooms- with fur pelts. As a result, hides were lying out to dry in every which direction, jerky was being prepared, and the animals' innards were being scraped and cleaned in order to create watertight containers. The stench was everywhere, and much of the snow had turned pink with spilled blood. Sokka had never realized just how messy reconstruction would be.

"Sokka!" Suki's voice reached him, and Sokka's attention snapped back to his betrothed. Her cheeks were pink with the cold, her auburn hair dusted with snow. The hood must have fallen back when she was running… Running? Suki wasn't supposed to be _running!_

When Suki reached him, bright eyed and grinning, her hand resting atop her unborn child, Sokka's concern grew. "What do you think you were doing?" he demanded, and Suki scowled, the smile suddenly gone. "You could have gotten hurt! What if you would have tripped? You wouldn't have been able to get back up, and then you would have frozen in the snow, and…"

"Sokka!" Suki snapped, and Sokka immediately stopped talking. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm not some fragile little girl who needs constant protecting! Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean that I can't do anything like I normally do!" she retorted hotly, and Sokka frowned.

"You can't really touch your toes anymore," he observed, and both Pakku and Beno winced at his comment.

Suki grabbed her boyfriend's ear and pulled him down to her face, her brow furrowing. "I could touch them if I wanted to," she growled, and Sokka swallowed.

"Of course you could! I don't know what I was saying… You're in perfect condition! Really, I can barely tell that you're pregnant…" he blabbered, his ear aching from the way she was tugging on it.

Suki finally released him with a sharp sigh and rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you?" she muttered, and Sokka shrugged with a sheepish grin. Suki sighed again, and then smiled. "Well, I appreciate your concern," she said and then lightly kissed the man's cheek.

Sokka cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Thank you?"

"Oh, Gran-Gran wanted me to tell you that lunch is ready."

"Well, I have a few more things that I have to do…"

"Are they more important than eating lunch with your grandmother and me?" Suki demanded, her voice suddenly low and dangerous.

Sokka's eyes widened. "Of course not! They're just…ah…chieftain things. They're…responsibilities…obligations…" he paused, and then bent down and kissed Suki's forehead. "I'll be there just as soon as I can," he added quickly, and Suki nodded once.

"Alright, then. I'll see you in a few minutes," she replied, blew him a kiss, and left just as quickly as she came.

Sokka was keenly aware of Beno's and Pakku's eyes on him, and he winced. "Man, has she been crazy lately," he humphed, and then shook his head. "I have to walk on eggshells when I'm around her, or she's at my throat."

"That tends to come with pregnancy," Pakku observed with an amused smile, and Sokka shuddered.

"Remind me never to get her pregnant again," Sokka said, and Beno snickered.

"You do realize that means no… 'fun' time after the baby is born, don't you?" his friend asked, and Sokka paused for a second, his brow furrowing.

"…Damn."

The other two men chuckled at Sokka's reaction, and the man in question shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I guess it's inevitable then," he replied, and Beno patted his back in sympathy.

"So… when exactly do you plan on marrying her?" Pakku asked, the reprimand in his tone slightly masked with curiosity.

Sokka decided to ignore Pakku's subtle scolding, and instead gestured for the other two men to come closer to him. When they did, Sokka glanced around himself quickly before leaning in to them as well. "It's a secret," he whispered. "Suki keeps pushing for a date, but I'm planning on surprising her. I'm going to marry her the same day that we celebrate the rebuilding of the Southern Water Tribe," he continued, his smile growing as he revealed his plan.

"So that's why you ordered us to work double time," Pakku noted, and Sokka nodded.

"Isn't she going to get angry?" Beno asked a second later, and Sokka nodded again.

"Most definitely. First, she'll get all sappy and romantic and teary eyed and tell me how much she loves me. Then, she's going to hit me with her fan and tell me what an idiot I am. And then… then we're going to get to make up," he finished, and both men raised their brows.

"I know Suki pretty well," Sokka replied to their unspoken question, and Beno chuckled.

"So, who else is in on this little plan of yours?" he asked, and Sokka grinned.

"Gran-Gran, of course. She wants to make Suki's dress. And your mother is actually helping out too, Beno. She's gotten a couple of the women in the village together and they're planning on taking care of the decorations, food, and the embroidery on Suki's fancy new parka. Gran-Gran said her hands are shaking too much now to do that part."

"You've certainly thought this through," Pakku noted with some surprise, and Sokka nodded, ignoring the older man's subtle jab at his intelligence.

"Since we're on the subject…" Sokka paused, and struggled to come up with a way to phrase his request. Pakku raised a brow, but said nothing. "I was actually wondering if you would be willing to help me out with something," Sokka said, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw in order to keep from shifting around awkwardly like a schoolboy.

"Well, if it would benefit the mother of my great-grandchild…" Pakku said with a slight smile curving his features, and Sokka repressed the urge to wince. Pakku's decision to marry his Gran-Gran had been an unexpected and slightly unwelcome one, but Sokka supposed that there was nothing he could do. Besides, Gran-Gran hadn't been so happy since his mother's death. How could he possibly object?

"Do you…" Sokka paused, and then forced himself to continue. "Do you know much about carving necklaces?"

--0--

**A/N: **Sorry it took me so long. My inspiration for this chapter was somewhat lacking. I wrote probably a dozen other scenes for upcoming chapters instead, and I have almost the entire final chapter completed now... You know how it goes.

Anyways, **please** review. Thanks!


	11. Chapter 10

"You've changed," Ryu noted from his place across the Pai Sho board, a tea cup in his hands. General Iroh had showered Katara with gifts- much to her chagrin and her ladies maids' amusement. Among the numerous presents which had ranged from the practical (a comfortable pair of slippers to wear around her room) to the ridiculous (a grinning idol with ruby eyes that Katara knew she had seen before), were a new tea set and a Pai Sho board.

The old general had taken a great deal of time instructing Katara on how to play the game, and in his absence, Jee often continued the lessons. Some small part of Katara wondered as to why they were so insistent that she learn the game, but a larger part of her didn't really want to know the reasoning. Ryu had picked up on the strategy of the game as well, after all the time he spent observing Katara, Iroh, and Jee. Finally, tired of consistently losing, Katara had insisted the Ryu take the seat across from her so that she could test her knowledge against someone equally unskilled.

Apparently, she was a terrible student. Even Ryu had picked up on the game more quickly than she had.

'Hm?" Katara replied, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the board before her. _Jasmine can take a rose, but not a rhododendron… white lotus can form a harmony with any other tile… knotweed may be placed anywhere on the board…boats do not disrupt harmonies…_

Ryu repeated his observation, and Katara scowled. Ryu chuckled lightly in response, and Katara rolled her eyes before studying the board again, trying to figure out how, by the spirits, she could somehow make a 'harmony'. The point of the entire game was to form a consistent string of harmonies around the center point of the Pai Sho board… Katara had yet to accomplish such a feat. "How so?" she asked after a moment, glancing from the pieces at her side to those resting on the board.

"Well, you look more ladylike, for one," Ryu teased, and Katara glanced up long enough to pin a glare on him. "That braid you used to wear really didn't do anything for you…" he continued as though he hadn't noticed the look. "And your wardrobe has definitely improved," he added, and his gaze dropped down to her chest, where the tops of her breasts were visible in the style of the Fire Nation court.

"Control yourself," she muttered darkly, although the corner of her lips twitched into a smile. While in the public eye, and even around Iroh, Ryu was stone faced and respectful. In private however, the man was animated and occasionally even slightly flirtatious. Those particular remarks, however, were saved for when she was either deep in thought or sinking into depression. They were his way of putting a smile on her face and lifting her spirits. Katara sighed, and moved her tile before glancing back up at her bodyguard. "Your turn."

Ryu gave the woman a wry half of a smile before he glanced down and studied the board. "You're different in other ways, too," he continued before he quickly made his move. Katara scowled at the ease with which he accomplished the feat, and the smile on his face widened slightly. "You're not as naïve as you used to be," he noted quietly after a time. Katara kept her gaze focused on the board, suddenly unable to meet the man's eyes. "And you're quieter…sadder."

Katara was silent for a moment, and then swallowed hard. Had she truly changed so much from the girl she had once been? Katara closed her eyes as she remembered those early days, and then sighed. The difference between the girl she was then and the woman she was now was truly staggering. Katara shrugged, still unwilling to meet Ryu's gaze. "War does that to you." _And so do life and love. They all make you age before your time; they all rip your heart out and tear it to shreds._

"You were in the middle of the war when I met you," Ryu noted, and Katara shrugged as she moved her tile, and suddenly couldn't summon the energy to scowl when Ryu captured her piece within a moment's time and had placed it in the pot.

"I was stupid," she replied softly, and then tiredly rubbed at her face with her hand. Ryu lifted a brow and settled back in his chair, obviously waiting for her to elaborate. Katara sighed, and then fiddled with one of the tiles that she had yet to put into play.

"You know, a long time ago you warned me to be careful around Zu- the Fire Lord. And I was…at first. But then…" Katara sighed again and placed the tile back down with the other unused ones. "He got under my defenses. He became a part of my family, and I couldn't help but to trust him with all my heart. And then…" Katara laughed, the sound coming out thick and slightly broken. "And then he somehow wormed his way into my heart, and I cared so much about him that I forgot to be careful. I cared for him so much that I didn't see the signs that practically screamed that something was off with him…" Katara let out a shaky breath and shook her head. "Love is blind."

"No doubt," Ryu agreed softly, and then reached out and gently took Katara's slim, dark hands in his own large pale ones. "No one blames you for what happened, My Lady. It was unfortunate for your side that the war ended the way it did, but it is not your fault."  
Katara met the man's eyes and withdrew her hands from his. "But it is," she replied quietly, and let out a shuddering breath. "The Fire Lord was given a choice- the freedom of the world, or…me. Guess which one he chose?"

"Then the blame lies with the Fire Lord, not you."

Katara stubbornly shook her head and averted her eyes. "Stupid, pig headed, idiotic man," she mumbled under her breath. "How he's supposed to run a country I have no idea," she grumbled, and Ryu chuckled.

"You think he'll be good for the Fire Nation," he observed, and Katara raised her brows.

"Really? And what else do I think?"

"You think that General Iroh needs to give him a good smack for all the trouble he's caused you." At this, Katara couldn't help but to nod and let out a watery laugh. "You think that if he grows out his hair any longer he'll start to look like a woman." At this, Katara's grin widened a fraction.

"Is that all?" she asked, a playful smile alighting upon her lips.

"You think that I am extremely good looking and that we should run off together," he added with a roughish wink, and Katara rolled her eyes and smacked his arm.

"No. That is an invention of your mind and your mind alone," she replied dryly, and Ryu gave a mock wince.

"You wound me."

Katara laughed, the sound a little brighter this time than it was before. "Anything else, Oh Extremely Good Looking One?"

Ryu was silent for a moment, and then nodded his head once in assurance. "Even after everything the Fire Lord has done to you, a part of you still loves him…and you hate yourself for it."

Katara's smile slid from her face, and she lowered her head to her hands in order to compose herself. She took in one harsh breath after another, Ryu's words ringing in her ears. The man had begun to remind her so much of Sokka- his good humor and teasing remarks often hid the fact that he was wise beyond his years. Katara swallowed hard, and fought back the wave of tears that threatened to break through.

"Were you ever married, Ryu?" she asked after a long moment, and Ryu's brow furrowed.

"Once… a long time ago," he replied, and Katara nodded slowly.

"What happened to her?" she asked.

Ryu didn't speak for a moment, and then he shook his head slowly. "She divorced me." At Katara's confused glance, Ryu cracked half of a smile and explained. "It means that the broke off the marriage. That's possible here in the Fire Nation. Less than a month later, she was married to another man."

Katara nodded slowly, and then sighed. "Somehow I knew you were speaking from experience," she noted quietly, and Ryu was silent for a moment before he gave a great shrug of his shoulders.

"It's your turn," he said, and Katara looked down at the board wearily.

The odds definitely were not in her favor, and she was suddenly exhausted. "I forfeit," she replied, and went to clean up the tiles. Before she had a chance to, however, Lian and Jia were there, batting her hands away and urging her to her feet. When Katara went to protest, the two young women quickly shushed her and ushered her away from the Pai Sho board. Ryu watched the exchange with some amusement, Katara noted, and she sighed heavily before finally doing as the maidservants bid.

"I'm going to head over to the nursery," Katara said, and Ryu was instantly on his feet. "You can stay here you know," she said quickly, thinking that he must be as emotionally drained as she was. Surely he didn't want to accompany her only to observe the antics of a child. "I can take Jee with me."

Ryu shook his head in the negative, and cracked his knuckles once. "That old geezer?" he asked, and the words were so reminiscent of Toph that tears almost leapt to Katara's eyes. "Like he could protect you. I don't know what that Fire Lord of yours was thinking when he gave Jee the job."

Jee humphed from the overstuffed chair he was sitting on, glancing up over the edge of the scroll he'd been reading for the past couple of hours. "Insolent kid," he retorted, a slight smile touching his lips. He then rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his belt. "Shall we go, My Lady?" he asked with a polite bow, rising to his feet.

Katara had long since given up on trying getting the men to call her by her name. Like Kin, both bodyguards insisted that it was their honor to serve her, and that they were merely giving her the respect she was due by calling her by her title.

Even with the formalities, however, the two men were the closest things to friends that she'd had in a long time. Of course, Kin and Iroh were always there for her, but her relationship with them was different. Iroh really had become and uncle to her in every form of the word, and for that reason he couldn't truly be considered a friend. Like Iroh, Kin had also developed a somewhat parental role towards Katara, and had almost become a stand in mother for her.

Jee and Ryu, although both were her senior by a great number of years, had somehow bypassed the patriarchal role and had somehow settled into being her confidants. The men were almost two halves to one whole: Jee was always there to place a hand on her shoulder or reassure her while Ryu was always prepared with a joke and a smile. Somehow, the two men made her smile like she hadn't in a long while, and had made her stay in this foreign place so much less lonely.

If nothing else, Katara was grateful to Zuko for bringing both men back into her life.

--

Zuko sat at his desk, his brow furrowed as he stared at the mound of papers before him. The piles of documents had risen to epic proportions, now that the war was officially over. The clerk had attempted to organize the documents according to content: economic policies, educational policies, religious policies, social policies… the list was endless. After a time, however, it became impossible to keep up with everything and it now was all in a jumbled mess.

Zuko lifted up one of the proposals on the desk, and then promptly pinched the bridge of his nose. Someone had proposed the idea that a new currency should be created to celebrate the dawn of a new era- a coin bearing the face of the greatest Fire Lady to ever live: Azula. Zuko scowled, and hastily put a large X over the proposal and tossed it to the side.

The next one that he picked up was a proposal that a national holiday be created to celebrate the death of the avatar and the great victory of the Fire Nation. Zuko let out a sigh and rubbed his aching temples. This was one proposal that he simply could not ignore. If he did, he would appear disloyal to his nation, and his people would trust him even less than he did already. If he passed the proposal into law, he would have to suffer through the ceremony every year and would earn Katara's eternal hatred.

"Fire Lord!" A cheery voice called from the doorway, and Zuko bit back a groan. "I've brought some tea for us to share!"

Zuko set the document he'd been mulling over to the side and lifted his head to meet his Uncle's gaze. "I'm busy," he replied flatly, and Iroh chuckled.

"Too busy for tea? Impossible." A servant quickly cleared some space on Zuko's desk and rested the aging General's tray of tea down on the lacquered surface. The man bowed once, and hastily withdrew from the room.

Zuko lifted another document from the pile, ignoring the plate in front of him. "What's got you in such a good mood?" he asked sourly, and Iroh grinned as he poured himself, then his nephew, a cup of tea.

"I just spent the entire morning with my grand-niece," he replied, the grin still present on his face. He held the tea out to his nephew, which Zuko took grudgingly. So that explained it. Every time Iroh went to visit Nozomi, the man's mood suddenly brightened, as though a great weight had been removed from his shoulders. Zuko supposed that he felt much the same way after coming from the nursery. There was something about a child's innocence that made the whole world seem a great deal brighter.

"Then Katara tracked me down and told me that it was her turn to spend some time with little Nimi," Iroh added a heartbeat later, after he had lifted his cup of tea to his lips. "I suppose that it's fair enough; she is the child's mother, after all."

"Mm-hmm," Zuko replied, scanning over the document he was reading quickly before pressing his seal to it. The Fire Academy for Girls had requested an increase of funds in order to create a new program. In addition to the arts of music, bending, and arithmetic, they wanted to add a science program. Their plan was for the girls to one day develop new technologies much the same way that the mechanist had. Zuko would have to petition the Fire Sages for the funding, of course, but since it was going to education they would most likely grant him whatever amount he wished for.

"How is work going?" Iroh asked a moment later, and Zuko scowled.

"I'm beginning to wish I drank Mai's poison in Ozai's place," he replied dryly, and Iroh raised his brows.

"That bad?"

Zuko nodded once, and then lifted a scroll into his hands. "Just listen to some of the ridiculous things that I have to read: '_I believe that it would be in the Nation's best interest to develop more advanced trade routes with its conquered territories. This would further stimulate our country's industry as well as cultivate better relations with the peoples from the furthest regions of the Fire Nation's new empire.'"_

Iroh frowned, and then glanced at his nephew. "I believe that to be a wonderful plan, Fire Lord."

Zuko glared at his uncle. "Just wait. '_In regards to items traded and received: I believe that the Fire Nation is currently undergoing a shortage of high quality tea leaves. Therefore, I propose that the Fire Nation trade liberal amounts of our iron and steel in exchange for the finest tea leaves that the Earth Kingdom has to offer…'_" Zuko made a face, and then leveled another glare at his uncle. "Would you know anything about this?"

Iroh innocently rose his brows and shook his head. "Of course not! But the man is a genius, I must say," he exclaimed, and Zuko sighed before rubbing his temples again.

"Well, if you happen to see this 'genius' please tell him that his proposal has been declined. If the Fire Nation is going to trade with the Earth Kingdom, we will do so for grain, wheat, or other foodstuffs."

"Tea is a foodstuff," Iroh replied, and Zuko quirked a brow,

"No."

Iroh huffed out a sigh, and then took another sip of his tea. "Have you come up with any ideas yet, aside from the proposals?" he asked, and Zuko nodded once.

"Aang…" Zuko paused for a long moment, and then swallowed thickly, the atmosphere in the room suddenly going tense and somber. The young Fire Lord clenched his hands together before sighing and taking a deep breath. "Aang once told me that the Fire Nation has changed greatly since he was last here. I began to research our country's past, and I found that he was right. In promoting this war, we lost a great deal of our culture. I was thinking of opening a cultural center in which our people could learn of our past and restore our nation to its former glory."

Iroh's lips turned up into a smile, despite the suddenly darker mood. "I believe this to be a good idea. Why don't you bring it up with the council when we convene at the end of the week?" Iroh replied, and Zuko scowled.

"Because of Azula, that's why! The cultural center will take money away from her precious campaign, and who do you think the nobles are going to listen to? Her, of course! If they dare to say anything against her, she'd shoot them with a lightning bolt! And even if I somehow managed to succeed in swaying the nobles to my side, the Fire Sages are terrified of Azula. They wouldn't dream of giving me the money. Honestly, how am I supposed to do anything in this country if I don't have the funds?"

Iroh paused for a moment, and then placed his tea cup back down on its saucer. "Then my suggestion would be this: make the Fire Sages indebted to you. If they feel that they are in your debt, and they respect you more than they fear Azula, there won't be a problem," he replied, and Zuko frowned.

"How, by Agni…"

"Think, Zuko!" Iroh interrupted. "That is your greatest problem! You never take the time to sit and think things through. To become a good Fire Lord, you are going to need to develop patience, and sharpen up that mind of yours!" The general then took another sip of his tea, and softened the blow of his words by giving Zuko a smile. "Now, concentrate and formulate a plan."

Zuko stared at his uncle, open mouthed for a moment or two before furrowing his brow with thought. The pair sat like that for several minutes before Zuko finally glanced up and met his uncle's eyes. "The Fire Nation temples have been neglected in order to finance the war," he observed, and Iroh smiled and nodded his head for his nephew to continue. "If I promise them that I will renovate and refurbish the temples, as well as swear to dedicate a holiday in Agni's honor, they may very well do whatever I ask of them."

Iroh's smile widened. "Good, good. You are learning." Iroh took another sip of his tea and glanced over at his nephew, something akin to fondness in his eyes. "Your father was wise to leave these matters to you."

Despite himself, Zuko cracked a grin and lifted the cup of untouched tea to his lips. For the first time in a long time, his uncle has given him his respect and complete support. Zuko realized what the words of approval were more than just that: his uncle was offering him a second chance. Technically, a third chance in his case, but still…

Zuko's smile widened. "Thank you, Uncle."

--

Katara walked through the corridors of the palace, her shoulders squared, her chin up, as the whispers of women dressed in fine silks and wearing jewelry heavy laden with gems surrounded her.

"Look, there goes the Fire Lord's whore," whispered one woman, although she purposefully kept her voice loud enough so that Katara would be able to hear her.

"Did you see that scene she made on the balcony?" said another and a third woman laughed.

"Who could ever forget? So very undignified… really, the Water Tribes must be filled with absolute savages."

"I wonder what the Fire Lord sees in her. All of the other Water Tribe girls that I've seen have been so much prettier. This one barely even has a shape."

"Maybe it's the whole business with the little princess. I have a feeling that the child really does belong to her, despite what the Royal family is saying," the second woman said, and the other two nodded their heads.

"I still don't see why she doesn't just live with the other Water Tribe whores," the first said, and the other two made noises of agreement.

"Really, to have that piece of filth walk among us…It is absolutely insulting. The Fire Lord really should send her to the harem with the rest of his little prostitutes," the second agreed.

"Rumor has it that the Fire Lord hasn't slept with any of his father's concubines yet. Maybe he's thinking of cleaning house…"

Katara felt the brush of an arm against her, and she glanced up to see Jee's stoic face. The man didn't look down at her, or show any sign of emotion for that matter. However, Katara knew that the contact hadn't been accidental. He was reassuring her, letting her know that the women were idle gossips and that she shouldn't let their words cut her as deeply as they did.

The pain came anyway. However, the pain of their words was overshadowed by something entirely different. Katara's curiosity was piqued. How had such vain, self centered members of the nobility managed to see Water Tribe women besides her? And just who were they speaking of when they referred to the _other_ Water Tribe whores?

Katara walked the rest of the way to her chambers in silence, her bodyguards flanking either side of her. When she finally entered her rooms, however, and she was safely ensconced behind thick walls, she broke the quiet. "What were they talking about?" she demanded before the two men had a chance to move beyond the entryway to her suite.

The two glanced at each other and then down at Katara, as though they couldn't quite comprehend what she was asking. "Uh… I thought you would know what a whore was…" Ryu said slowly, and then glanced at his counterpart. "If you don't…I'm sure Jee could tell you all about them."

Katara scowled. "I _do_ know what a whore is," she replied dryly. "And I'm sure you could tell me more about them than Jee could, seeing as you visit them so often," she snapped, and Ryu colored.

"How would you…"

"I'm a very light sleeper, Ryu. I hear you slip out in the middle of the night."

Jee hid his grin at his fellow bodyguard's discomfort and then turned to Katara. "Could you rephrase your question, My Lady?" he asked, effectively changing the subject. He then gently took Katara's elbow and led her over to the couch in her living room. The young woman sat down reluctantly, and then glanced between the two men standing before her.

"Who are the other 'Water Tribe whores' that those women were referring to?" she elaborated, and she crossed her arms over her chest when she saw Jee shift uneasily from one foot to the other. Her bodyguard's eyes were suddenly focused somewhere over her left shoulder, and Katara frowned. "Ryu?" she asked, and the younger of the two body guards shrugged his shoulders.

"They were probably just talking about the concubines," he replied easily, and Jee suddenly pinned a glare on the younger man. Ryu's eyes widened, and then his mouth snapped shut.

Katara glowered. "_What_ concubines?" she demanded, and neither man answered her. "Well?" she asked, glaring at each of the men in turn. Seeing that they weren't going to talk, Katara finally heaved out a sigh and called for Lian.

The petite, dark haired girl seemed to have a great deal of connections as she was always buzzing with palace gossip. If anyone would know, it would be her. The girl was at Katara's side within moments, her head bowed low enough so that she couldn't see the men's warning looks.

"Are there Water Tribe concubines in the palace?" she asked, and the girl frowned and lifted her head to stare at her mistress with a puzzled expression. "Just answer the question, Lian," Katara prompted, and the girl shrugged.

"Of course. They've been here for a long time… five or six years at least. Some were practically raised here though. Why the sudden curiosity?" she asked, and then bowed her head again. "Not meaning to pry of course, My Lady," she added hastily, but Katara was too busy glaring at her bodyguards to bother reassuring the girl _again_ that such formalities were not needed. Lian lifted her head and glanced between the two parties before her eyes widened in realization. "Oh…oops," she breathed, and then quickly scurried away.

"Where is the harem?" Katara demanded, and the pair winced simultaneously. Despite their obvious discomfort, they remained silent. "One way or another, I'm going there. Now either you could take me, or I could find a way to do it on my own. What'll it be?"

"Listen, My Lady, the Fire Lord and General Iroh would be very upset if you were to spend your time associating with concubines…"

Katara glowered. "Maybe you don't understand. A little under six years ago, my village was attacked by the Fire Nation. They killed us, raped us, and kidnapped the most beautiful of the young women we had. The North Pole is impenetrable, so it is impossible that the girls living here are from our sister tribe. What does that mean?" she asked, and the pair remained silent. Katara took in a deep breath. "That means that those women are members of my tribe! They are the girls I grew up with! And you're not going to let me see them because your nation forced them to use their bodies in a dishonorable fashion?" she demanded, and both men suddenly found their boots very interesting.

"This war has killed my mother, my father, and my brother; not to mention decimated my tribe. My friends are dead… I find out that some of my tribe's women, members of my _family_ are here, under this very roof, and you are planning on keeping me from them?" she exclaimed, unable to keep the tears from falling.

Ryu finally heaved out a sigh, and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I didn't realize…" he began and then he trailed off.

Jee gently brushed away Katara's tears with the pad of his thumb, and then shared a long look with Ryu. Katara sniffled as she watched the exchange, and then Jee managed to summon a smile for her.

"I know I'm going to regret this," Ryu muttered under his breath, and Katara suddenly launched herself at the pair of them.

With an arm wrapped around each of their necks, and her face pressed in the spot where the two men's shoulder's met, Katara smiled. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, and the pair chuckled nervously before setting her away from them almost simultaneously.

"You do realize that this will give those women even more reason to gossip, don't you?" Jee said, ever the voice of reason. His face was filled with genuine concern for her well being, and Katara felt her heart warm at how much the man actually seemed to care for her,

"That doesn't matter to me," she insisted, and Jee searched her eyes for confirmation before finally nodding.

"Alright then," he said, and Katara's smile widened.

For the first time in over six years, she would see the women who had once meant a great deal to her. Women who had taught her to cook, whose voices she had listened to as she had fallen asleep, whose gossip she had soaked in with eager ears when she had been too young to understand anything… she would finally see the long lost members of her family again.

--

Sokka stood in the center of the massive, newly constructed meeting room. Everything- from the walls to the tables to the chairs the men sat upon- was made of solid ice. Sokka had insisted that the room be constructed in the heart of the palace, rather than the throne room that Pakku had attempted to install. After much arguing, the water bending master finally consented.

Many of the fur pelts that had been made recently were placed over the ice of the chairs, while some hung from the walls to serve as decorations. Sokka had balked at that as well, for he found it to be a waste. However, Pakku had refused to back down, and Sokka had grudgingly accepted.

Reconstruction was far from finished, but the people of the Southern Water Tribe had already begun to fall in love with their new city. Several of the homes had been finished, and many more were in the finishing stages of construction. Life was finally begin to settle into a routine, something that was welcomed after so many years of war. Sokka had begun to become content as well.

However, every so often, he would see a penguin _(Let's go penguin sledding!), _or see his Gran-Gran's trademark eye roll _(Honestly Sokka, do you ever think about anything but food?), _or watch a waterbender practicing his forms _(I'll get this form eventually! Just wait a second, Aang!), _and thoughts of his sister would come crashing down, obliterating the calm that he thought had settled over him.

And then for hours afterwards, he would create half a dozen plans revolving around rescuing Katara. Then, inevitably, he would be distracted by his duties as chieftain and his plans would have to be put on hold. Besides, he couldn't initiate an all out war with the Fire Nation by sailing into the accursed country and saving his sister like he planned to. He would have to wait for the perfect opportunity…

That opportunity had arrived this morning. King Bumi and Earth kind Kuie (Tui only knows how that pair had managed came to be; Sokka didn't want to burst a brain cell trying to figure it out) had sent him a letter via messenger hawk.

After reading just the first few lines, Sokka couldn't help but to laugh. Obviously, Bumi was the one who had done the writing.

_Sokka,_

_I do hope that Momo is doing well…we made fast friends! Flopsy misses you. Kuie said to stop dawdling and ask for your assistance, or rather pledge ours to you. Bossy. Just because he was the king of the city with the big walls he thinks he's more important than me._

_It is a shame that the war ended the way it did… Did you ever realize that war rhymes with oar? And boar? And soar? And door? And… Kuei's yelling at me again. He says I'm being to cavalier. Personally, I think that he and his little bear Bosco are…_

Here, there was a large blot of ink, and then a long line where it appeared as though the quill had been yanked out of Bumi's hands. On the line below, the handwriting changed.

_It had come to our attention that your tribe has made an alliance with the Northern Water Tribe. We humbly request that you forge the same alliance with the Earth Kingdom. My time traveling my nation has taught me a great deal, and I realize now just how much could be gained if the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom join together both beneath and against the tyranny of the Fire Nation. _

_I propose that we re-open the trade routes that were in existence over a century ago. I also humbly request that the water benders living in the Earth Kingdom may sail to your nation in order to be properly trained._

_May peace one day reign again._

Sokka had read the letter, then the treaty that had arrived with it, and then realized what it meant. Should the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom be joined together by a treaty, they would one day go to war with the Fire Nation again. And when that day came, Katara would be brought home.

Moments after coming to that conclusion, Sokka had called together all the men of his tribe. And now they sat, their faces filled with a combination of curiosity and concern as they stared at their young chieftain. Sokka took a deep breath before he plunged forwards.

"I am sure that you are all wondering why I've called you here today," Sokka began, his face hard and stoic as his gaze raked over the men of his tribe. They all murmured their assent. Sokka took a deep breath and surveyed the men's faced. Some seemed open to what he had to say; others, like Ohtli, kept their faces hard and firm, their arms crossed over their burly chests.

Instead of speaking, Sokka laid out the treaty on the table, straightening his spine when he heard several of the men begin to protest immediately. Ohtli, of course, was among them.

"We should accept this treaty just as we accepted the Northern Water Tribe one- for stability and protection."

"And vengeance," Ohtli sneered, and their were noises of agreement.

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Were I my father, would you stand against me on this issue?" he demanded coldly, ignoring the accusation this time. The more he denied it, the more he knew that he condemned himself in Ohtli's eyes.

"Of course not! Your father was a good man and a capable warrior," Ohtli ground out, and Sokka raised a brow.

"And I am not?" he replied coolly, and Ohtli glared at him.

"You have a bastard child in the belly of the woman you continue to fornicate with. You abandoned your little sister and left her in the hands of the Fire Nation dogs! You led avatar to his death… Tell me, _Chief_ Sokka, if you think that you are a good man, or a good warrior."

Sokka swallowed hard against the rage that swelled within him, and he took a deep, measured breath. Finally, he stared long and hard at Ohtli." So you're saying it's me that you have a problem with, not the treaty. You are telling me that you are being unreasonable because you are more concerned with making my life miserable than you are with the good of our tribe," he stated, and murmurs ran through the war room. Ohtli lifted his hands and nervously glanced around him, and Sokka narrowed his eyes.

"That's not what I…"

"Didn't you?" Sokka demanded, and Ohtli raised his chin a fraction at the rebuke in the younger man's eyes.

"You have no right to be the Chieftain of this tribe!" Ohtli snapped, and Sokka clenched his hands at his sides.

Pakku rose from his chair at this point, and glared coldly at the burly, square jawed man. Sokka held up a hand to silence his grandfather before turning back to Ohtli.

"No. I have no right to be the Chieftain; I agree with you completely. However, you should not judge me according to the outcome of this war; According to my information, Azula had plants in our ranks. Zuko was merely one of many. So yes, I take the blame for not realizing Zuko's intentions earlier, but it was not just that one mistake that cost us the war.

"Our little group had no idea when or where the Water Tribe ships would be coming in. In addition, we didn't have a clue as to what would be happening with our ground troops, but they were still ambushed. So you see, Ohtli, the blame for the failure of the war cannot be placed on my shoulders alone.

"And as for my character… You cannot condemn me for sleeping with a woman outside of marriage. As I remember, you and your wife used to do much the same thing. The entire tribe knows that your son was born loud and healthy only six months after your marriage." Sokka paused.

"So tell me, Ohtli, who deserves to be the Chieftain? You?" he paused again, his eyes narrowing. "You are no better than I. Before you judge me for anything other than what I have done for this tribe, examine your own life," he finished, and Ohtli took a step back from the young man before him.

Sokka then took in a deep breath, and glanced around the men of his tribe once more. Their expressions were part proud, part awestruck, part acceptance. "Now, does anyone else have an objection to signing the treaty?" Sokka asked, and there was silence.

He cracked a grin, and then quickly scratched his name onto the paper.

_I'm coming for you, Katara. Just hold on a little bit longer…_

_--_

**_A/N: _**Look! Such a lovely long chapter and only three days after the last update!

Okay guys, I'm starting to feel a little discouraged. See, The more chapters I put up, the less people review. It's kind of upsetting and depressing, and it makes me feel like you guys don't care. So, please review! Thanks!


	12. Chapter 11

Sorry for the long wait, everybody. Life, you know...

* * *

Katara paused outside gauzy gold curtains, her heart hammering in her chest. Suddenly, she was having second thoughts. What if these women weren't the ones she remembered? What if they didn't want to see her? What if… Ryu gave her a little shove, distracting Katara from her suddenly panicked thoughts. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before stepping through the filmy portal- past the propriety and intrigue and into a world of decadence, sin, and ironically, honesty.

Ryu and Jee stayed behind, for no men were allowed in this strange world. Jee had once told her that ages ago, before the Fire Nation had become civilized, eunuchs had been the ones to serve here. Neither man nor woman, they belonged to neither world, and were therefore free to walk among them both. Katara had shuddered upon hearing that revelation, and her belief that the Fire Nation had always been a strange and slightly crazed place was reaffirmed.

Katara expelled a breath and glanced around her as she tried to still the galloping of her heart. The harem, Katara realized with a bit of awe, was a truly magical place. While sparsely decorated like much of the rest of the Fire Nation palace, it nevertheless bore traces of femininity that the rest of the palace lacked. Vases of cut crystal held large bouquets of fire lilies, crimson roses, and frothy Fire Lady's lace.

The women themselves were beautiful accessories- their faces painted ivory, their hair hanging straight and sleek down their backs. Their robes were more risqué than Katara had ever seen before, and despite herself, a blush rose to her cheeks. The design of most was simple- a straight, silk sheath that ran from bust to floor. The undergarment to Katara's own dress was much the same. However, instead of a heavy robe like the one that she wore above it, they merely wore a filmy, gauzy, one that covered very little. It left their shoulders and the majority of their breasts completely bare.

Katara flushed again, imaging what her father or brother would say if they saw her dressed in such a fashion. However, thoughts of her family instantly made her pale, and she pushed them as far to the back of her mind as she possibly could. She took another deep, calming breath before glancing around again.

The women were still suddenly, and quiet, their painted faces all turned towards her in curiosity. The small children that ran about, however, were oblivious to her presence. They shrieked out their laughter, their glossy black hair bouncing behind them as they ran, male and female alike. Absently, Katara wondered whether these were all Zuko's half siblings. She certainly wouldn't put it past Ozai.

Katara swallowed hard as she scanned the women's faces for someone familiar, someone who reminded her of home. It did no good; these women were all strangers. Katara let out a shaky sigh, and then turned to exit the room. However, a clear, high voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You are the Fire Lord's woman, are you not?" a woman clad in red asked from where she reclined on her couch, a child at her feet. Katara turned back to the woman, her words sticking in her throat.

_Zuko's woman. _The words were painful, for what they implied. They made her sound like a common harlot; a woman that was not worthy enough to be anything more than a mere mistress. Here, in this palace, she was nothing more than a mistress to the man she had once called husband. She was in the same position that all of the royal concubines were. She wanted to vehemently deny the truth, but she knew that it would do no good. Instead of speaking up for herself, she nodded mutely.

The woman smiled at her slightly, as though she was privy to Katara's discomfort, and then gestured to an archway draped in gauzy blue curtains. "The ones you are looking for are in there," she said, and Katara jumped at how the woman had appeared to read her mind. Recovering herself, she nodded her thanks and scurried away. Conversation between the women assembled picked up again in her wake, although she could still feel curious eyes boring into her back.

Katara stopped directly at the archway, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Quickly, she offered up a prayer of strength to the Spirits, although she prayed very little nowadays. Then she expelled the breath, opened her eyes, and took the plunge.

The room itself was much the same as the first that she had entered: there were the same vases with the same flowers, the same intricately woven rugs upon the floor, women of the same astounding beauty chatting amongst themselves. But the hair that hung so straight and sleek down these women's backs were brown, and although their faces were painted the same shade of white, the skin of their necks and shoulders was a rich russet.

Katara swallowed thickly as she stared at the creatures around her- beautiful in an almost fragile way, painted, and blue eyed. Slowly, they each turned to stare back with an equal amount of curiosity, their painted lips pursing in concentration, Kohl lined eyes narrowing as their gazes raked over her frame. Katara recognized none of these women, perfect as they were. Every defining feature was hid behind a mask of silk and rouge, and Katara swallowed thickly.

Perhaps she'd been mistaken. Maybe she knew none of these pretty creatures; perhaps they were from the Northern Water Tribe after all. "I'm sorry… I…I should…" Katara stammered, blushing under the weight of the older women's stares. She turned to flee but a soft, strong voice made her freeze.

"Wait." Katara swallowed thickly, and slowly turned back around so that she could see the woman that had stopped her. Beautiful and full figured, the woman made Katara feel like an ugly schoolgirl when she looked at her. But there was a kindness in her eyes, a compassion that was borne of suffering. "You look familiar," the woman continued.

Katara swallowed thickly, and then shifted her weight to her other foot when the other women's scrutiny increased tenfold. She would be difficult to recognize, she knew, if these women were in fact her tribe's members. The prettiest women of her tribe had been taken away when she had been a mere child, and she had changed a great deal since then.

"You're right, Nadia," another woman said without taking her eyes from Katara. "She does look very familiar." Several other women voiced their agreement, but Katara didn't hear them. Her heart was pounding frantically in her chest, her throat constricting.

_Naida…_ The name brought about memories of women laughing and cooking over the hearth while Katara's mother helped her stir the stew. It reminded her of a virgin's blush, of a pretty young woman's embarrassment when the older women teased her about the men that trailed her at all times.

"Naida?" Katara asked quietly, her brows furrowing and her hands suddenly clenching together at her sides. She felt very small all of a sudden, more like a child than a woman. Her lips were trembling, and she fought against the sudden, irrational urge to cry.

Nadia stared at her for a heartbeat longer, and for a moment Katara was terrified that the woman didn't remember her. Then Nadia's face softened, and her eyes widened in something akin to shock. "Katara?" she whispered, and took a step towards Katara.

Katara let out a soft cry and then ran forwards into Nadia's suddenly open arms, ignoring the surprised whispers that flew about her. She buried her head against the older woman's shoulder, allowing herself to take comfort from a fellow tribe member.

The scent of Nadia's skin was wrong- it smelled of vanilla and cardamom, rather than the scent of fat and ash that Katara remembered. But then, she supposed that she herself smelled different now as well.

"Katara? Isn't that Hakoda's girl?" one woman asked.

"Yes…Kya's daughter! I remember her!" another replied.

"Such a sweet little thing; my, she's grown up."

"So _she's_ the girl the Fire Lord is so interested in…"

"It looks like she was forced to become one of us after all."

Katara shuddered in Nadia's embrace. _One of us…_ Was that what she was now? Had she truly crossed the line and become one of the Fire Lord's many playthings?

Would she never simply be Katara of the Southern Water Tribe again?

--

Suki arched a brow and planted her hands on her hips, tapping her foot on the icy floor. "Well?" she demanded, and suppressed a smile when she watched Sokka sputter and gesture wildly in response.

"Hiding something?" the man finally managed, attempting to sound indignant but his guilt was apparent. "Why would you think I was hiding something from you?" Suki merely shifted her weight and narrowed her eyes. Sokka paled. "Suki, sweetie…" Sokka then rushed forwards with a strained little chuckle. "Since when have I kept anything from you? We both know I'm not that great at keeping secrets…"

Suki snorted. "Obviously."

Sokka glared. "So how could I possibly be hiding anything?" he finally finished, and Suki met his gaze for several moments before she finally sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine. You can keep your damn secret," she muttered under her breath before turning on her heel and throwing herself down on a warm fur pelt. She could practically hear Sokka's exhale of relief, and she rolled her eyes again. "But only if you pick me up some pickled turtle seal on the way home," she added, and missed Sokka's wince.

"Sure, sweetheart," Sokka replied, and Suki threw a cushion at his head.

"And stop using pet names. I have a name, you know!" she exclaimed, and Sokka nodded hurriedly.

"Of course, Swee- er- Suki. You have a beautiful name," he replied quickly, and Suki scowled.

"Oh, just go already. And if you forget the pickled turtle seal, you're done for," she threatened, and Sokka bobbed his head dutifully before ducking out the door as quickly as his feet could carry him.

The moment he was outside and out of earshot, Sokka heaved out a sigh and cradled his head in his hands. "Suki," he groaned, her name coming out more like a curse than anything else.

"Women problems?" Beno's voice caused Sokka to straighten and meet his second's gaze. The dark haired warrior wore a smile, but his eyes were tight. Sokka sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Mood swings," he explained with a wave of his hand, before abruptly remembering that Beno hadn't had many dealings with women, and therefore wouldn't be able to completely relate. He sighed again. "And she wants pickled turtle seal. Like that's easy to come by," he grumbled under his breath, and Beno laughed.

Again the sound was slightly forced, the warrior's face pinched slightly as though he were in pain. Sokka ignored the other man's strain. The young chieftain cleared his throat. "So…what brings you here?" he asked after a short time, and Beno's lips quirked upwards slightly.

"Pakku sent me."

Sokka repressed a groan, and then stared determinedly down at his boots. "I guess I have to go talk to him then," he muttered after a time, and Beno chuckled at the reluctance in his voice. "Sometimes it really stinks being the chief," Sokka grumbled after a moment, and Beno rested his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Sometimes it really stinks being your second," he replied, his lips quirking again. "Every time you run off to hide, I have to take care of things."

"I don't hide!" Sokka exclaimed, staring at his second in something akin to shock. "Every challenge I've been given, I've met head on! Sometimes I work all the way through the night; just talk to Suki! I'm sure she'd _love_ to complain about it to someone else for a change…"

Beno quickly shook his head. "You're doing right by our people, Sokka. Anyone with eyes can see that. You're on top of foreign policy, and I know that you're working your brains out on the reconstruction. But come on, I've seen you hide behind a tent when Pakku walks by."

Sokka glared at his second for a full moment before he finally let out a huff. "It's just creepy to see him all happy… And I _know_ why he's happy."

Beno chuckled. "Ah, yes. Gran-Gran. Rumor has it that he's been slipping into her rooms recently."

Sokka made a face and gagged. "Don't remind me, please. I think I might lose my lunch," he replied grimly, and Beno laughed again. This time it seemed less forced, more genuine.

"You should be happy for them, Sokka. Think of it this way: Pakku hasn't been getting any for fifty some odd years. And Gran-Gran hasn't gotten any for at least the past ten." Sokka grimaced at this, but Beno continued. "So, you should be glad that they're releasing all that pent up tension. It means they'll be a whole lot nicer to you."

Sokka stared at his friend for a heartbeat, his face almost purple in disgust. "That's just nasty, man. Let's stop talking about this, okay? I'm still in a state of denial."

Beno shrugged his shoulders. "Denial doesn't make things go away, you know."

Sokka sighed. "I know," he replied grimly, his voice older and wiser than it had been only moments before. Both men were silent for a time, their footsteps heavy as they trudged forwards.

"So, who is she?" Sokka asked after a while, effectively lifting them from the silence that was heavy with loss and regret.

Beno raised a brow. "Hm?" he replied quizzically, and Sokka shook his head.

"You're all wound up. Something's bothering you…and with all these new Northern Water Tribe girls wandering around…"

Beno sighed harshly. "I don't want to talk about her," he snapped, and then shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry…I…"

Sokka held up his hands. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." Beno nodded once, and then Sokka's face suddenly contorted into a sly grin. "So… It _is _a girl?"

Beno gave him a look, and then shook his head. "Pakku wanted to talk with you about the palace," he said, changing the subject, and Sokka repressed a groan.

"Big house," he corrected automatically, and Beno waved his hand in dismissal.

"Whatever."

"What more could he possibly need to talk to me about? The place is practically finished! Only a few more walls need to be erected, and then…"

"Ah, Chief Sokka!" Pakku exclaimed, clapping his gloved hands together and giving his grandson a smile. Sokka shuddered. "Just the man I wanted to see," he continued, advancing towards him.

Sokka turned to Beno, but realized belatedly that the other man had slipped away. Sokka cursed his second in his mind, and vowed to do something in retaliation for the man's betrayal. Leaving his Chieftain alone with Gran-Gran corrupters…honestly. "Beno said something about the big house…" Sokka prompted, eager for the little meeting to be over as soon as possible.

"Palace," Pakku corrected quickly, and Sokka sighed.

"Whatever."

Pakku gave the younger man a look and then continued. "Not the palace, per se. I wanted to speak with you about the ice gardens."

Sokka glared. "No."

Pakku raised a brow. "I'm the waterbender here. If I say there are going to be ice gardens, there are going to be ice gardens. Now… what sort of flowers do you think we should have the waterbenders bend? I was thinking roses… hydrangeas, maybe. And perhaps some orchids…"

Sokka stopped moving, and his mouth dropped. "You called me out here to talk to me about _flowers_? What kind of man do you think I am? Talk to Suki about that kind of thing!"

Pakku continued on as though he hadn't heard Sokka's outburst. "And perhaps a large fountain in the shape of a white lotus in the center…"

Sokka stared at the man, dumbfounded. "No way," he breathed, staring at the aging man before him. Pakku shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand in dismissal.

"Fine then, a small fountain," he amended, and Sokka held up his hands.

"No; that wasn't what I meant."

"Large fountain it is then," Pakku replied without missing a beat, and Sokka repressed the urge to face palm himself.

"Small fountain," Sokka corrected automatically, and he could feel Pakku's disappointment. "And I can't believe you're a part of that secret society! Just how widespread is this thing?" he demanded, his eyes wide.

Pakku glanced over at the younger man for a moment, and then his lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. "I take it General Iroh told you."

"I guess you could say it was something like that," Sokka replied, repressing the urge to scowl. A heartbeat later, his eyes widened. "Wait…You know Uncle?"

Pakku chuckled darkly, and then heaved out a sigh. "I've already said too much. There is a reason that a secret society is named the way it is, you know." He paused, and then looked in the direction of the palace again. "Four gardens, a large fountain in each," he said a moment later.

Sokka scowled. "Two, and we already agreed that they were going to be small fountains."

"Three, and small fountains," Pakku returned, and Sokka sighed heavily.

"Just don't make them too elaborate," he finally said by way of agreement and Pakku grinned.

"They have to be suitable for a palace, Chief Sokka," the older man replied, and Sokka glared.

"Big house," he ground out, and Pakku sighed.

"Whatever."

--

Azula tapped her long fingers against the wood of her desk, her pretty face furrowed into a frown. "Odd…" she murmured under her breath, tapping the map spread out before her. "Sea prunes in New Ozai?" she mused, her brow furrowing further. "But those are purely Water Tribe. What could they be doing…" Azula trailed off, and her eyes widened in realization.

"Clerk!" she shouted, and the man hurried in, bowing so swiftly that she didn't have the opportunity to see his face. He was afraid of her obviously, and that was a good thing. "Go get me the Master of Communications," Azula ordered, and the man bowed deeper before scurrying away.

Once he was gone, Azula dug through the scrolls that had previously been lying neatly in a container beside her desk. Finally finding the one she was looking for- titled Ba Seng Se- she quickly unrolled it and spread it out atop the map. She quickly scanned the document until she found what she was looking for- imports and exports.

Listed under the imports section, amidst countless of other insignificant things, were fur pelts and seal jerky. Azula's eyes narrowed. Among the exports were abnormally large amounts of oil, leather, coal, and surprisingly cabbages. In addition, the official reports had stated that deconstruction of the Earth kingdom Military was going according to schedule, however, there was no sign of any significant increase in any other occupation.

"My Lady!" The Master of Communications' voice distracted Azula, and she scowled at having her train of thought. She bit back a smirk when she realized that the man practically cowered before her. She quickly smoothed out her face with practiced ease, and then crossed her arms over her chest.

"Have you been intercepting letters to and from the earth kingdom?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

"Randomly, My Lady. As you have ordered," the man replied, a slight tremor in his tone.

"That won't do anymore. From here on out, you are to intercept every single letter. I don't care whether the missive is for the next town over or all the way to the Fire Nation- you will open it, read it, and document it before sending it on its way."

The man before her paled, and dared to glance up at her face while his brow furrowed. "My lady! My department doesn't have the time or the resources to do such a thing! We would be buried up to our necks in paperwork for _years_ if we had to…"

"You'll do it, or it will be your neck on the line," Azula threatened, and the man fell into silence once more.

"I will be appropriating more funds to your department, of course. And sending more men to work under you… and if you find what I'm looking for, there will be a personal bonus for you," she then added offhandedly, and the man's eyes widened.

"If you don't mind me asking, my Lady," the Master of Communications said, and then paused for a moment as though he were considering if his curiosity was really worth the Fire Lady's wrath. Apparently he decided that it was, for he continued speaking. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Azula glanced back to the map, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Proof of an alliance between the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom," she replied, and the man stepped backwards.

"They wouldn't dare start another war so soon after their defeat! Surely there must be some kind of mistake…"

"Are you saying that your Fire Lady has made a mistake?" Azula replied sharply, and the man stuttered out an apology. The Fire Lady decided to let the insinuation slide, for the moment at least. "I _am_ right. I just need evidence before I send my troops to occupy the Water Tribes. It is your job to find that evidence. And if you don't…" Azula trailed off, and she lazily drew her fingernail across her neck to demonstrate her meaning. "Am I clear?"

The Master of Communications swallowed. "Perfectly."

--

Zuko sat at his desk, staring blankly at the documents that littered his desk. Around twenty minutes before, the characters of the words had begun to swirl together, and he found that he could read the same passage three times and still have no idea what it said. He was, quite frankly, sick and tired of being Fire Lord.

He slept very little at night, kept awake by his racing mind. He went over Day of the Black sun over and over again in his mind, trying to figure out where everything had gone wrong. Many nights, he attempted to rationalize what he had done. Others, he simply wallowed in misery and begged Agni to smite him where he laid.

His dreams were plagued by that day as well. Over and over again he saw the pain and betrayal that flickered in Aang's eyes seconds before he died. He dreamed of his mother weeping over the man he had become, dreamed of the way that Toph and Sokka had supposedly died, dreamed of the disappointment and fury that he often found in his Uncle's features.

And then other nights, beautiful nights, he dreamed of Katara. He dreamed of the first night they spent together, when they had been shy and too entirely innocent, afraid to look, afraid to touch. In his dreams, he experienced those sensations all over again- the embarrassment, the tenderness, and eventually the passion. Sometimes he dreamed of the day by the stream- the day before the Day of the Black Sun. Then, they had grown bolder, touching places left unmarked the night before, suddenly not so innocent nor quite so awkward.

On those nights, he woke surrounded by a fog of his own desire, a sheen of sweat settling upon his skin, his breath coming in quick gasps. Zuko felt some of that desire curling in his lower belly as he sat behind his desk, and he bit back a groan. He had spent two nights with Katara- only two- and yet it was as though she had branded him. Thinking about her simply made the feeling all the more intense, and he bit his lip hard as he stared back down at the scrolls before him, desperate to divert his attention before he was too far gone.

His Uncle chose that precise moment to enter his office. Zuko squeezed his eyes close at the sight of the rotund man, balancing a tray of tea on one hand and a plate of cakes on the other. Zuko gripped his pen so tightly that his knuckles turned white and he flushed crimson when his uncle stopped to stare at him.

The older man cleared his throat and his bushy gray eyebrows lifted to his hairline. "Am I…interrupting something?" he asked after several heartbeats, his gaze flickering from Zuko's face and downwards. At that moment, Zuko was infinitely grateful that his desk blocked his Uncle's view of his lap.

"Not funny, Uncle," Zuko ground out, his face flushing what he was sure to be a brilliant red, and he gripped the pen in his hands so tightly that it actually snapped. Zuko cursed and went to scoop up the pieces before he realized that standing would reveal his rather sizeable problem. He allowed the shards to stay where they were.

"Really, Zuko, I could step outside for several minutes while you continue with whatever it was that you were doing…"

"Gah! Uncle!" Zuko exclaimed, and he could feel his ears burning. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"There's no need to be so modest, Zuko," Iroh replied sagely, seemingly completely at ease with the topic of their discussion. "Most boys your age do such things. Why, even at my age, I still sometimes have to…"

"Uncle!" Zuko shouted, mortified beyond description. "I didn't need to know that! Now please, please, please stop talking about this!"

Iroh raised a brow, and then shook his head. "So, should I step outside or…"

"No!" Zuko exclaimed, and he pressed his fingertips to his aching temples. "What are you doing to me?" he muttered under his breath, and a corner of Iroh's lips quirked upwards.

"If I did that to you," Iroh said, his gaze flicking down to where Zuko's lap was hidden beneath his desk, "You have more problems than I thought you did," he finished, his voice laced with amusement.

Zuko buried his head in his hands. "Not funny uncle," he muttered, and to his relief he noted that the humiliation his uncle had put him through had been enough to calm his body down.

Iroh chuckled, as though he was incredibly amused by the whole ordeal. He then laid the two trays down on Zuko's desk and poured a cup of tea for the young Fire Lord. Zuko took it without meeting his Uncle's eyes and redoubled his efforts to attempt to decipher the scroll before him. The characters still swum in his vision.

"So, nephew, what seems to be the problem?" Iroh asked, settling his ample girth into a chair that a servant had just recently cleared of unrolled scrolls. Zuko studiously ignored the older man, and instead nibbled on one of the little cakes that his Uncle had brought.

"Funny. I didn't think you were around Katara enough for the sexual tension to be this strong," the aging man mused, and Zuko choked on the cake. He then quickly set it aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Although I shouldn't really be surprised," Iroh continued as though he didn't realize Zuko's discomfort. "At your age, you are driven by your hormones…"

"Please, Uncle," Zuko muttered, and Iroh waved the young man's pleading away dismissively.

"You're a man now, Zuko. You should be able to talk about these kind of things," Iroh admonished, and Zuko swore he could feel a migraine coming on. "I take it that taking care of your…problem…by yourself hasn't helped you any?" Iroh prompted, and Zuko scowled sullenly.

Iroh chuckled at the look on Zuko's face, and Zuko's glare darkened. He set his tea away from him firmly and pretended to be engrossed in the document before him. Iroh wasn't so easily dissuaded.

"I thought not," his uncle added, taking Zuko's silence as confirmation to his suspicion. Zuko groaned. "You do realize that there are other methods, do you not?" Iroh added after several moments, and Zuko's felt his ears begin to burn again. This was worse than the time he had seen his Uncle naked. Much, much worse.

"I doubt Katara would actually let me near her," Zuko snapped before he thought, and then he stared down at the scroll again, feeling his mortification intensify tenfold.

"Not necessarily Katara, nephew," Iroh replied, and Zuko's brow furrowed. "The concubines are here for a purpose, you know. I can tell you from experience that they are very capable at what they do. In fact, just the other night…"

"Uncle!" Zuko cried. "Isn't talking about my sex life bad enough? Do you honestly have to drag yours into this too?" he demanded, and Iroh chuckled.

"Fine, fine. Have it your way. I'm just saying, the concubines are in place for times like these. Well, times like these and for procreation, of course. Say both you and Azula died in the war…I'm sure one of your many half siblings would have taken the throne…"

"Half Siblings?" Zuko asked, his brow furrowed. He had been raised with the harem, of course, and had always known that his father visited there. However, he had never really thought about the children that could have been born to his father behind those gauzy gold curtains. Zuko shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Never mind. I don't want to know." He paused for a moment, and then his voice deepened slightly. "And I don't want one of those women, Uncle. I want Katara."

"Well, chances are that she isn't going to let you near her," Iroh replied, and when he spoke his voice was not unkind. "But there are other women…Water Tribe women…"

Suddenly exhausted, Zuko rested his head in his hands. "Uncle, I really don't want to talk about this," he said quietly, and Iroh nodded once before he swiftly changed the subject.

"So, what are you reading about now?" he asked, standing and moving over to Zuko's shoulder to take a glance at the document. Iroh's brows rose when he scanned the scroll. "Another drought, hm? We've seemed to be cursed with those for the past several years…"

"Is that what that says?" Zuko mused aloud, and Iroh turned to the young man with concern etched into his features.

"Finish your tea, Zuko. Then I think its time that you take a nap."

"Azula never takes naps," Zuko replied darkly. Although the thought of sleep was incredibly tempting, he couldn't bear to appear weak before Azula. Not again.

"Azula doesn't have as much on her mind as you do. You see, nephew, there is an upside to lacking a conscience. You always sleep well."

Zuko snorted under his breath. "Isn't that the truth," he grumbled. He downed the rest of his tea in one swift gulp, and wished for the hundredth time that his Uncle would spike his tea with Sake.

His uncle was then pulling him by the arm and towards his bedchambers, making Zuko suddenly feel like a very small child all over again. A part of him was relieved to finally have someone to look after him, but a greater part- the prideful part- was somewhat embarrassed by the attention.

"I can put myself to bed, Uncle," Zuko said a lot more harshly than he intended to, and Iroh shrugged his shoulders.

"Just make sure that you actually rest. No more working, young man," Iroh replied before turning and walking away. Zuko heaved out a sigh that was filled with both disappointment and relief, and then continued onwards to his room. Once inside, he quickly doused the lights, and climbed into his bed in full Fire Lord attire.

He dreamt of the agony and betrayal in a little boy's face.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and **please review!**


	13. Chapter 12

Zuko shot straight up in bed, sweat trickling down his temples and into his eyes. He cursed harshly and wiped the moisture away with his hands, kicking the sheets off of his body and swinging his feet onto the ground. It was the damn dreams again.

He shuddered as he raked his fingers through his hair, and took several deep breaths to steady himself. When that failed, he muttered another curse and quickly pushed himself off of his bed and stalked over to his wardrobe. With nimble fingers, he removed a false wall and pulled a bottle of liquor out of his secret stash.

The liquid burned its way down his throat, and he coughed several times, blinking tears out of his eyes. He sank into a nearby chair and lifted the bottle to his lips again, he body still shuddering. This time the liquor didn't burn quite so much when he swallowed, and the trembling began to ease. Zuko took a deep, shaky breath, and rested his elbows on his knees, his head hanging down limply.

"Damn," he growled aloud, and then took another deep, bracing swig of the liquor. The dream had been more vivid that night than usual… It had seemed so real that he had been completely disoriented when he woke, and had almost believed that Katara was lying against him. Just thinking about it made him shudder, and he squeezed his eyes closed as he downed another gulp of sake. Sadly, it still wasn't enough to make him forget.

He drained the last of the liquor and then threw the empty bottle across the room with a harsh expletive. The glass shattered, the fragments embedding themselves into rich, fabric draped walls and plush carpeting. A stain was slowly spreading across the red silk of the far wall, and Zuko found himself helpless to do anything but watch it grow.

"Your Highness!" his personal guard was suddenly at his door, his helmet obscuring whatever expression may have been present on his face. "Your Highness! Are you injured?" the man demanded, and Zuko scowled.

Was privacy too much to ask for? If he felt like screaming at the top of his lungs and tearing his room to shreds, he should at least be given the privilege to give into his impulses. But no, he no longer had that kind of freedom. At every bump, every curse, every cry of outrage, someone always came running. He hadn't truly been alone since Ozai's passing.

"I'm fine!" Zuko snapped, and then muttered another curse under his breath while he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Are you certain, My Lord? Should I fetch the physician?" the guard persisted, and Zuko resisted the urge to hurl a fireball at the man.

"No!" he exclaimed through clenched teeth, and gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

"Should I get you anything, Sire?" the guard asked, and Zuko growled low in his throat. The guard had courage, that much was obvious. A lesser man would have left the angry Fire Lord alone the minute he realized that no injury to his royal person had occurred. Yet this man continued to question him; seemed to care for both his physical and mental well being. Even so, that very persistence annoyed him to no end.

Zuko opened his mouth to decline guard's offer, but something stopped him. For a moment, he sat in silence, and then he swallowed thickly as his uncle's words came back to him. The concubines…maybe seeing one of them would actually help ease his tension, as his Uncle had said. Maybe…

"Sire?" the guard probed, and Zuko took a deep breath.

"You know where the harem is, do you not?" he asked before he could lose his nerve, and he watched as the guard's shoulders squared slightly.

"Of course, My Lord," he replied quickly. "Is there a certain woman there that you are looking for, or…?"

Zuko cleared his throat, embarrassment suddenly settling over him like a thick cloud. This seemed too much of a private matter to be discussed so cavalierly with a guard. Yet the man acted as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence- like his Lord had asked him for a glass of water rather than for a woman to share his bed.

"No…I don't…that is…" Zuko stuttered for a moment, and the guard bowed his head slightly.

"Young?" the guard asked helpfully, and Zuko nodded dumbly.

"Any preferences in weight?"

Zuko swallowed hard. "Uh…no."

"Nationality?"

Zuko swallowed again, and merely shrugged his shoulders.

If the guard was frustrated with the young Fire Lord's lack of responses, he didn't show it. Instead he bowed deeply, and ducked out of the room as quickly as he had come in. Zuko let out another harsh expletive, and quickly rummaged through his secret stash once again. His supplies were definitely dwindling…pretty soon he'd have to send a servant to the kitchens to bring him more. He bit back a curse at the thought. He didn't need the entire palace to know about his growing dependence on liquor.

He took a long, deep gulp from one of the bottles before quickly putting it back in the stash and sliding the false wall back into place. He would need to make his reserve last for as long as humanly possible, so he couldn't drink much more than that. With quick, deft motions he closed his armoire and stalked back to the chair that he had just vacated. However, his heart was thumping in his chest, and his hands were twitching at his sides, and he was presently far more suited to pacing than to sitting.

Zuko took a deep breath and raked his hands through his growing hair once again, and then cursed himself all over again. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to summon the girl. Maybe he should order his guard to keep her away from his rooms and let him sleep… Or maybe, just maybe, the touch of a woman could ease his anxiety.

Zuko muttered another expletive as he began to pace with long, frustrated strides, lost in the tides of his own tension.

And then the door opened.

Zuko turned on his heel, and quickly swung his gaze to the door, prepared to tell the guards to send whatever girl had come far, far away. But then he saw her.

She was a small, young thing- probably only a year or two older than Katara at best. She walked inside with her head bowed, eyes lowered, dark brown hair falling like a curtain about her painted face. Her movements were smooth and graceful- more graceful than Katara's movements had been. She was also a lot more substantial than his wife, Zuko noted with a quick glance. Her small body boasted generous curves, where Katara's was all muscle and sinew. The concubine had a body of a courtesan, while Katara had that of a seasoned warrior.

Zuko swallowed hard as he took one step closer, his throat closing so that he was suddenly rendered incapable of speech. "Look at me," he commanded hoarsely, and was almost surprised when she obeyed his order without question.

Her eyes stopped him in his tracks. They were humongous, the dominant feature in her small, heart shaped face. And, more importantly, they were blue- the exact shade of Katara's. "My Lord," she whispered softly in a dulcet voice, and quickly bobbed a small, fluid curtsy. Zuko's mouth went dry.

"Go lie down," he commanded hoarsely, and saw the girl's eyes fill with surprise. Surprise at what he wasn't quite sure… Had Ozai spoken with his women beforehand; made them feel comfortable before he took his fill of them? Zuko doubted it. He took a deep breath and shook his head to end his musings, and watched with sharp eyes as the girl made her way to his bed. She then offered him a slight, coy smile and lifted outstretched arms towards him in invitation.

Zuko quickly glanced away from the girl who looked too much like his wife, and then stalked forwards. Suddenly, he didn't want to see any more of this girl before him; didn't want to compare her to Katara anymore. She was here to make him forget, not to make him dwell on the woman he loved.

He removed only the clothing that was absolutely necessary, and then he took her roughly. Never once did he stop to think about this nameless girl's well being; never once did he meet her eyes. She was nothing to him- a possession, an object, something to be used and then thrown away. He couldn't afford to see her as anything else.

When he was alone in his bed once more, the sheets tangled about his legs, Zuko merely stared up at the ceiling with wide, slightly vacant eyes. Although his desire had been sated, he felt no relief. Rather, he was left with a horrible emptiness in his heart.

--

"My Lady!" the master of communications exclaimed, bowing deeply at the waist. Azula scowled as she glanced up from her paperwork, and then her annoyed expression dropped away as quickly as it had come on.

"I hope for your sake that you have brought me news," the young Fire Lady said, and she could have sworn that she saw a shudder pass through the man's body.

"Of course, My Lady," the man replied, a tremor in his voice. Despite herself, Azula cracked a smile at the fear that a seasoned warrior demonstrated before her. He quickly held out a missive in a glass tube for her inspection. Azula took it quickly, and the shudder that passed through the man's shoulders when their fingers touched was not lost on her. She held back a smirk as she quickly withdrew the thin roll of paper and skillfully unwound the parchment. She skimmed over the characters written there briefly, and then smiled.

"You are dismissed," she said tersely, glancing up from the letter to the shaking man now kneeling before her. Azula watched with cruel amusement as the Master of Communications hastily pushed himself to his feet, his knees trembling, and scurry out the door after a hasty, shuddering bow. A smile touched her lips as her eyes flicked from the door the pathetic man had rushed out of and back to the letter she held in her hands.

"Clerk!" she called out in her dulcet voice, and the man scurried in hastily, pressing a fist to his palm and bowing in the Fire Nation custom. He didn't lift his head to peer up at her; his gaze didn't sway from the spot that it was fixed on the floor.

It could have been misconstrued to be a sign of respect, but Azula knew better. Although this man's body didn't tremble, he was nevertheless just as afraid of her as the Master of Communications had been. Well, she was perfectly happy with that. It meant her job as Fire Lady would be that much easier.

"My lady," the man said reverently, his voice pitched low enough to conceal the terror that the young Fire Lady knew him to be filled with.

"Call the War Council together for an emergency meeting. We have something very urgent to discuss," she said quickly, rolling the letter back up and placing it on her desk with smooth albeit quick motions. When the man hesitated, her eyes darkened and her lips turned down at the corners. "Well, go!" she exclaimed.

The man before her kept his composure well, but Azula was quick to take in the deepening of his bow. "My lady, I mean no disrespect, but…" he paused for a moment to gather his courage, and Azula's eyes narrowed. The clerk finally continued, despite his lady's glare. "Not all of the council members are present at the moment. It would be impossible to…"

"Do not question me!" Azula snapped, and the man quickly fell into silence. "Tell the ones that are here that their Fire Lady needs them immediately," she continued, her voice more controlled now, her frustration not quite so transparent. "Those who choose not to come, well…they will have to deal with me."

The man's bow deepened again before he quickly backed out of the room, his eyes still cast down to the floor. "As you command, My Lady," he agreed softly before hurrying away.

Azula chuckled lightly at the fear she so obviously inspired in grown men, and then ran her fingertips lightly over the polished surface of her desk. "You can come out now," she called lightly, her eyes darting over to a corner obscured in shadow.

"I see you're still terrorizing the help," a bored voice called out softly, and Azula chuckled again before turning to her dark robed friend.

"They need a healthy dose of fear," she replied, and Mai rolled her eyes before heaving out a sigh. The pale girl's robes swished against the stone floor, and then she was at Azula's elbow, her flat brown eyes glancing over the desk.

"What was all that about?" she asked, and Azula lifted the letter from the desk and held it out to her friend. Mai glanced at it before sighing and taking it from Azula's outstretched palm. "Not like I have anything better to do," she grumbled under her breath before rolling the parchment open. Her movements were not nearly as smooth as Azula's had been, but then again Mai had never been able to match Azula at anything.

Azula watched her friend's expression carefully as the older girl read the letter, but Mai's face remained a mask of boredom. If the girl was hiding something, she was concealing that fact rather well. The dark eyed girl finally sighed and rolled the missive up again before placing it back in Azula's waiting hand. "That boy is an idiot," she finally said, and Azula smiled.

"We all knew that from the beginning," she replied, placing the letter back on her desk and turning to Mai with her arms crossed.

"Who's an idiot?" Ty Lee's peppy, lilting voice was impossible to ignore as the acrobat stuck her head through the window, a wide smile of her heart shaped face.

Mai's brows rose to her hairline as she stared from her friend to the window and back again. "You could have used the door, you know," she observed, and Ty Lee shrugged as she gracefully slid the rest of her lithe body through the open window.

"That's not as fun," the girl chimed happily, and Mai rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes I think that _you're_ the idiot."

Ty Lee stuck out her tongue childishly, and then turned to Azula with her hands planted on her hips. "So? What's going on?" she asked cheerily, and the young Fire Lady sighed and glanced towards Mai, suddenly unwilling to deal with the acrobat's peppiness.

Mai exhaled heavily, obviously understanding her friend's unspoken wish. "Remember that Water Tribe boy?" she asked dully, and the acrobat's eyes widened while her pink lips stretched into an even wider smile.

"Oh! Cutie! How could I possible forget _him_? I mean, did you see all those yummy muscles and…"

Mai made a face, and held up a hand to stop the younger girl's sudden flow of speech. "You're making me nauseous," she said darkly, and Azula smirked lightly when the acrobat huffed out a breath and rolled her massive gray eyes.

"Come on! You can't bring up a guy that _delicious_ and then expect me to keep my mouth shut! Don't you know me at all?"

Mai sighed listlessly, and then pressed a hand to her temple. Azula guessed that their pink clad friend's enthusiasm was giving the older girl a headache. "He just declared war," Mai said bluntly, and Azula watched as shock suddenly flitted over the young acrobat's face.

"But he…that just…Why would… Oh, man!" she finally exclaimed. "Really, the cute ones never get any brains!" She sighed, and then plopped herself down on Azula's finely carved desk. "It's such a shame…he's too cute to die," she whimpered, and Azula watched as the corner of Mai's mouth curved up in amusement. Ty Lee finally turned those too large gray eyes back to Azula, a pout still lingering on her lips. "So what are you going to do?"

Azula shrugged and glanced at the massive red map that hung along one of the walls. "Make an example of him, of course. I only called the War Council as a formality," she admitted, her lips twitching ever so slightly. "I'll send a few dozen ships to the South Pole and completely obliterate his pathetic excuse for a tribe. That should startle the Northern Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom enough to give us a chance to obliterate any remnants of resistance there as well."

Azula watched as her friend's large gray eyes grew glassy and even wider; watched as the acrobat's lower lip trembled even through the perpetual smile on her face. "More fighting?" she whispered softly, and Azula felt something akin to disgust well within her breast at the weakness that the girl was displaying.

"You're too soft, Ty Lee," Azula muttered, and then turned towards Mai. "And what do you think?" she demanded, although she convinced herself that she didn't care what her friend thought of her methods.

"You're the Fire Lady," Mai replied with a slight shrug.

Azula nodded once and then turned to glance out her open window, her eyes roving over all the buildings scattered below the palace. Her buildings, her people, her country. A sudden surge of possessiveness filled her, a possessiveness that reminded her of her absolute power. She was the Fire Lady; no one could oppose her.

"Yes," she murmured softly, her eyes glinting. "Yes, I am."

--

The tinkling sound of laughter filled the room as the water tribe women converged upon Katara all at once, their silks draped over their arms and jars of make-up filling their hands. Katara could merely sit, stunned, as she was surrounded on all sides by perfumed bodies and powdered faces.

"A little bit of this… the Fire Nation loves a pale complexion…" said one as she dipped her brush into a jar filled with rice powder and water. Katara shivered slightly at the feeling as the brush slid up from her collar bone to her jaw line. The process was repeated until her entire face was covered, and all of the girls around her made noises of appreciation.

"Close your eyes, dear. This will feel very strange," another said. Katara barely had the time to comply before a stick of charcoal was used to line her upper lids. Just when she thought the woman was finished, she felt the stick transfer its contents to her eyebrows.

"Wha…" Katara had intended to ask what that had been for before a third woman quickly shushed her.

"Don't move your mouth," she warned, dipping a small brush into a jar of a red, almost waxy substance. Moments later, she was painting Katara's lips crimson.

With all the commotion going on around her, Katara wasn't aware that one of the women had grabbed a hold on her hair until she felt a sharp tug. At that, she let out a small cry of pain and surprise, making the woman painting her lips slip and mutter a short curse. "Hold still!" she exclaimed again, and Katara nodded swiftly.

"You're hair is so curly," Naida observed, and Katara realized that it was she who had grabbed a hold of her thick, brown mane. "It'll take a little while to straighten it out," she added, and Katara's eyes widened in surprise. Then, she felt something unbearably hot be brushed through her curls and she cried out.

"What was that for?" she demanded with a wince, and Naida laughed slightly.

"I'm brushing hot oil through your hair to straighten it," the woman replied, a smile in her voice as she ran the brush through Katara's hair again. When Katara let out another whimper, Naida rolled her eyes. "Just be glad that you weren't here five years ago. When I first arrived, complicated buns were the fashion. Women brushed scalding wax through their hair, and had to sleep on little raised boards to make sure that the style never got messed up."

"The Fire Nation is full of lunatics," Katara mumbled under her breath and Naida lightly slapped her shoulder. The woman then continued to brush the hot oil through Katara's hair. After a time, Katara grew accustomed to the heat of the brush, and was even able to relax.

The environment of the harem was comfortable and intimate, and in its own strange way, reminded Katara of a family. The women sat in little clusters, chatting with ease about all the little unimportant things that sisters tend to. Katara then remembered all that these girls had gone through together, and abruptly understood why they were so close. They had been through kidnapping, rape, and prostitution; they had been forced to cling to each other in order to survive.

Their conversations though… they were enough to make Katara's ears burn with embarrassment. Several times she had to cough and drink a glass of water in order to calm herself down after a comment that had been made cavalierly. As Naida continued to brush her hair in now soothing movements, another of those conversations began.

"Leda," said a girl whose name Katara failed to remember. She was a pretty thing, her long brown hair straight about her shoulders and her dress a shade of soft pink. "I heard that you were summoned to entertain General Tsung last night. What was he like?"

"Oh yes," Naida chimed in with a slight chuckle. "I've heard stories about him!" she exclaimed.

Leda rolled her pretty blue eyes and fanned herself with her hand. "He was as limp as a shriveled root," the woman remarked with a crinkle of her nose. "I can't tell you how much effort it took for me to harden him," she added with a laugh. The other girls joined her in laughter while Katara flushed crimson beneath the white powder on her face.

"Oh, how awful!" Sura exclaimed. "Was he bad a lover as they say?"

Leda's face contorted again. "He was so small I could barely feel him!" she exclaimed. "And he drooled the entire time. At one point, the spittle actually dropped onto my face!"

Peals of laughter echoed through the room, and Katara erupted into a coughing fit. Naida laughed lightly and rubbed the girl's back in a soothing manner. "Don't worry, little sister," she said brightly. "You'll get used to it all eventually."

"What about you, Koko?" Leda asked the girl in pink. "I heard that the Fire Lord himself summoned you!" the older of the two exclaimed.

Katara stiffened immediately at the mention of Zuko, and her eyes quickly swung over to where Koko sat. _He wouldn't…would he? But I thought he… He promised…_ Katara shook her head quickly and resisted the urge to stop her ears when Koko began to speak.

"He was cold," Koko said softly, a frown marring her pretty features. "So cold." She paused, and then looked over to Katara. "I don't know how you could have put up with him for so long," she said softly, and glanced down at her hands.

"What'd he do to you?" Nani, a young woman in a dress of black silk, asked, concern suddenly filling her voice.

"It's more like what he _didn't_ do," Koko replied, her voice soft. "From the time I walked into his room until the time I left, he never once looked at me. He spoke only three times. The first time was to tell me to look at him, the second was to tell me to lie down; the third was when he ordered me to leave his room."

"But how was he as a lover?" a girl asked and Koko shuddered.

"Just as cold and impersonal! He didn't even bother to undress me! He just pushed up my dress, did his business, and ordered me to leave!" she exclaimed.

Katara stared at Koko, her mouth agape. This was not the Zuko she knew. The Zuko she had known had been so nervous the first time that he was with her that he couldn't even untie his own belt. He had laughed softly in embarrassment when she had taught him how to remove her breast bindings, and his face had flushed as red as hers had when he saw her naked. The Zuko she knew had put her pleasure before his own, had held her close against him as she drifted off to sleep. How could the cold man that Koko spoke of and the sensitive one that she had loved be the same person?

"You'd think that he'd have better manners, living with General Iroh for so long," Leda replied with a cluck of her tongue.

"Now Iroh… Iroh is a wonderful lover!" Koko exclaimed in agreement, and Katara felt her ears burn with the amount of embarrassment that she felt.

"You would never think that a man of his age could be so eager, but…"

"Uncle?" Katara demanded incredulously, horrified. The girls laughed at her discomfort, though not unkindly.

"You're such a virgin, Katara," Naida teased her, pecking her cheek in a sisterly fashion before continuing to brush out the girl's long hair. "Men enjoy the pleasures of the harem no matter what age they are."

"And he gives such nice gifts!" Sura exclaimed. "He gave me this on my birthday- I don't know how he knew it, mind you- Isn't it lovely?" The girl had placed her hands around an egg sized amethyst broach in order to display it.

"And he gave me this hairpin!" Nani exclaimed, pointing to the single adornment in her dark brown hair. The other women pointed to similar objects on themselves, and Katara had to cringe at the sight of each one. Uncle- _her_ Uncle- had been with so many of the females of her tribe? The thought disgusted her more than she cared to let on.

"Oh, Katara, I have the most beautiful dress that you can have!" Sura cried, as though the thought had just occurred to her. "It was a gift for me- but it's too small. The only one it would fit is little Ulva, but…" at this point, Sura's voice dropped to a whisper. "She won't be able to fit into it much longer."

"She's keeping it then?" Naida asked, her face scrunched up in worry.

"I offered to call a physician in, but she would have none of it. Ulva says that the baby is half hers and she won't dispose of it, no matter who its father was!" Leda replied sharply, her concern for the girl obvious in her tone.

"Who is the father?" Katara asked, and the women around her fell silent for several moments.

"Ulva had been the mistress of Fire Lord Ozai for several months before he died," Koko finally said softly, and Katara's eyes widened.

"I'll go get that dress now!" Sura exclaimed, quickly drawing the women away from the subject of Ulva's unborn child.

The woman was back in moments, but Katara didn't get the chance to see the cloth in her arms. The instant that Sura was in sight, Naida had stopped brushing her hair and Leda and Koko had moved forwards to strip Katara down to her undergarments. The new dress was then slipped over her arms and wrapped tightly about her form once and then a second time. Finally, a wide sash was wrapped around her middle and was tied so tightly that Katara could scarcely breathe.

When all of the women stepped away, there was a moment of silence. Then, the room was filled with delighted squeals and two of the women dragged Katara over to a full length mirror.

Katara glanced at her reflection and then went completely still, spellbound. Her complexion had been made pale from the powder, and the charcoal lining her eyes made them seem bigger; their color more intense. Her painted lips were full, and had been drawn in so that they were shaped absolutely perfectly. Brown hair hung in gleaming tresses about her face like a veil, granting her a soft, ethereal look. The blue dress she wore had been embroidered with a swirling pink design of cherry blossoms, and the soft pink sash accentuated her tiny waist.

She looked like a doll. A beautiful, porcelain doll.

"What do you think?" Sura asked, clasping one of Katara's hands between two of her own. "Aren't you stunning?"

Katara was unable to glance away from the mirror, haunted by her reflection. Was this what she was to become then? Dolls were beautiful to be sure, but they were empty. Their bodies were devoid of warmth, their beauty confined to the outside. Was she really to become pretty face, but a hollow heart? Was this truly her future?

"She's beautiful," Katara murmured softly, and then wrenched her gaze away from the mirror.

The girls seemed to understand what she was feeling, for instead of squealing with delight they clutched her hand in sympathy. They themselves had undergone the same reaction, Katara realized, and the thought made her blood run cold. At one point in their lives, they had been as innocent as she. Then, they had undergone the transformation from frightened girls to doll-like women, and their innocence had been lost to them.

The doors opened quickly on its hinges, and the girls quickly turned to face the newcomer. They had been expecting the small form of Ulva to walk through the doors, but who they saw shocked them all to the core. Prince Zuko stood, his gold eyes roving over each of them slowly, tracing their features. When his gaze finally landed on Katara, he flushed with anger.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" he bellowed, stalking over to her purposefully. Zuko reached out and grabbed Katara by the arms with bruising force before shaking her quickly.

Katara's eyes widened at the sight of her husband, shock filling her at his sudden, unexpected appearance. For the briefest of moments, she wondered how he had found her, but then the anger and hurt filled her and she couldn't bring herself to care. "I'm visiting with friends," Katara replied coldly, lifting her chin a fraction. Who did he think he was, marching into the room in such a manner?

Zuko's eyes glinted and he glanced over the women with disdain. "Your place is not with whores, Katara!"

At this, a ripple of anger ran through the woman. Katara's eyes flashed and her face flushed as she glared at the man before her. _How dare he? After all that he…he…_ Katara swallowed and squared her jaw, welcoming the fury that filled her. "They're my family!"

"They're filth," Zuko replied cuttingly. "Do you have any idea what these women do?" he demanded, and Katara leveled him with a cold glare.

"I think you would know that better than I would," she replied sharply, channeling her hurt at his betrayal into anger. "After all, both you and Uncle have seen these girls before, haven't you?" Zuko suddenly stood silent, the anger seeming to fade into shock for a moment. "Haven't you?" Katara demanded again, and Zuko was shook from his trance.

"You have no right…"

"I have every right! I am the mother of your child, remember?" she demanded, and Zuko narrowed his eyes.

"This is a conversation to be finished later," he hissed, inclining his head towards the other women in the room.

"I don't care if they hear!" she shouted back at him, and she could see the smoke that had begun to trail out of Zuko's nostrils.

"But I do."

"I don't give a damn what you want! You've done nothing but lie to me the entire time I've known you! You said you were different, but you handed Aang to your father on a silver platter- even though he looked up to you; loved you like you were his older brother! You said you'd protect us, but my family is dead. You said you loved me, but you slept with another woman! I don't care if you burn in…" Katara let out a sharp cry as pain blossomed across her left cheekbone and eye.

The girl stumbled slightly, and a collective gasp arose from the concubines. Naida made to step forwards to help her friend, but one of the other girls held her back in mute warning. Zuko stood, frozen, as he stared down at his hands, up to Katara, and back again.

Katara stared at him mutely, her hand lifting to press incredulously against her cheek. She had known that Zuko had a history of violence, of course, but never had she imagined that he would do something so…so… She swallowed hard against the moisture that threatened to spill over her eyelids, and she willed the ache in her heart to ease. After all that he'd done, she should have expected… Finally unable to hold his gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes to the floor as her hand continued to cradle her cheek.

"Katara…I…" Zuko began, and stared at her, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean…I'd never…" He apparently couldn't find words sufficient enough to explain himself, and Katara knew that his pride would hardly allow him to apologize before the gaggle of women. Such a course of action would never fit the Fire Lord, the son of a tyrant like Ozai. It would show weakness, and would prove to everyone there that he was, in fact, in love with a little water tribe girl.

Despite herself, tears slipped silently down her cheeks, making streaks of brown through the thick white paint. Her throat burned and her heart ached, and suddenly she didn't care if he saw her cry; didn't care if her friends saw her unravel before them.

"Katara," Zuko whispered, his voice soft and tortured. Apparently forgetting about the other women in the room, he stepped forwards and lightly brushed his fingertips over the tender area of her cheek, wincing when she cringed at his touch. "I didn't mean to, honest. I'd never hurt you," he said softly, gently cupping her face with his hands. She did not pull away, but neither did she lean into his touch as she once had. "I'll do anything…anything to make it up to you," he promised, and Katara finally raised her eyes to meet his.

"Let me go home," she finally whispered, her eyes swimming. She saw the pain that suddenly flashed across his features at her words, and despite everything that he had done for her, her heart ached at the fact that she was the one who had caused that pain.

But the lingering remnants of tenderness for the young man before her were not enough to keep her here in this foreign land. She knew that Sokka and her father were dead; knew that returning to the land of her birth would re-open those wounds and rub them raw, but she also knew that going home would eventually allow her to heal. Here in the Fire Nation, she was stagnant, bleeding, alone, and caged. More than anything, she wanted to be free; to take her daughter away from this dark place and be allowed to live the rest of her life in happiness and simplicity.

"I can't," Zuko whispered hoarsely, and Katara closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the pain that those two words caused her. "Katara, I don't think I'd be able to survive without you. I can't lose you," he whispered again, his voice so raw and so honest that Katara couldn't find it in her heart to be angry with him for his selfishness.

His words were reminiscent of the night that he had proposed to her, and Katara's throat closed when she remembered how safe she held felt in his arms, how bright his laughter had been when she had accepted him. She swallowed hard, and closed the floodgates of her heart before emotion could overwhelm her.

"Oh, Zuko," she whispered softly, tenderness in her voice despite her resolve to be cold towards the man-child before her. "You've already lost me."

For some reason, anguish clawed at her insides when Zuko flinched, his eyes widening with hurt. She had the sudden impulse to take her words back, if only to ease his pan. Her concern for his feelings was completely irrational considering all the pain that he had put her through, she knew, but then again she had always been the self sacrificing type. Besides, some still, small voice in her heart whispered that he had never meant to hurt her; that Zuko would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Katara swallowed hard as she stared into Zuko's wounded eyes, and watched the various emotions that passed over his face. First there was the pain, then the guilt, and then raw anguish. "No," he whispered hoarsely, reaching out and enveloping her hands within his own. "Never say that," he pleaded, drawing her closer to him by their joined hands, and then placing them upon his chest.

Katara shuddered lightly at the hard warmth beneath her palms, and her eyes widened when Zuko took a step closer so that his face was just a breath away from her own. Katara swallowed hard and glanced towards her friends out of the corner of her eyes, only to see that they had tactfully disappeared at some point prior. She and Zuko were completely alone for the first time in months, and that terrified her.

But she was not afraid that he would harm her, or take advantage of her in any way. No; he may have made his mistakes, but it was not in his nature to do either. Rather, she was terrified of her sudden response to his nearness- the quickening of her breath, the rapid pounding of her heart. She was afraid that if he tried to touch her, to kiss her, she wouldn't be able to resist. And that would only result in her falling completely over the edge…falling hopelessly in love with him all over again; enjoying a brief time of bliss before another round of heartrending pain.

She couldn't let that happen again.

"Please, 'Tara, can't you give me another chance?" he whispered, and Katara swallowed hard, not trusting her own voice. "I messed up, I know that. But I love you so, so much. You mean everything to me. And I think…I think maybe you might just have feelings for me too. We can try again…Start over…_please…_"

Katara took in a quick breath, her mind suddenly blank as her heart went into overdrive. Zuko had let go of her hands, but she had yet to remove them from his chest. They felt right there- like they belonged. He gently tipped her chin upwards, and Katara could read the desperation in his eyes, his need for her love. His lips were moving closer to hers- so close that she could feel the warm, moist breath of his mouth on her face. Suddenly incapable of thought, her eyes drifted closed, her body leaned closer to his and…

"My Lord!" A man's gruff voice cut through the moment, and Zuko pulled back with a muffled curse. Katara blinked and then swallowed hard, attempting to regain her bearings. Realizing that her hands were still pressed against Zuko's chest, she blushed and hastily withdrew them.

"What?" Zuko barked, his face dark. Katara lifted a hand to her lips, which tingled even though Zuko's had never had the chance to make contact with hers. Her stomach was fluttering, her pulse pounding.

"My apologies, Sire, but the Fire Lady has called an emergency meeting of the War Council. You are needed at once," the man said hastily with a quick bow, but Katara barely heard him. Her hand had drifted down to her breast, where it rested lightly over her pounding heart. She took a deep, shaking breath to try to calm herself, and in the process realized just how lightheaded she was.

"I'll be there," Zuko growled with a pointed glare towards the man, who hastily bowed again before rushing away. From somewhere outside the room, Katara heard a crash and then a tinkling of laughter, followed by a stammered apology.

Katara glanced back to Zuko to find the man's eyes trained on her, and she swallowed hard. "Katara, I…" he began and stepped towards her, and Katara quickly raised her hand to stop his approach.

"You need to go," she whispered softly, and managed a tight smile. "I understand." She could see the conflict in his eyes- the war between his duty and his desire to stay by her side for even a heartbeat longer. She swallowed again, and nodded towards the door. "Go," she urged him quietly, despite the racing of her heart.

Although he still looked torn, Zuko nodded, and turned away. He looked back once, his mouth opening before he snapped it shut again and swiftly left her standing alone in the middle of an empty room, her heart in her throat and her mind tangled somewhere in the state of confusion.

--

"I am sure you're all wondering why I called you here on such short notice," Azula said, glancing at each member of the War Council. Zuko stood beside her, his spine straight and his shoulders square despite his urge to flee from the room and to Katara's door as fast as his feet could take him. He had been so close, _so close_, to crossing the barrier she had erected between them, and because of this Spirits forsaken meeting he had lost that opportunity.

"A letter was intercepted a few days ago- one that has led us to the brink of a second war. The conquered nations have formed an alliances, and are planning a surprise attack as we speak," Azula continued, and Zuko started with surprise, suddenly drawn from his own anger and misery. From the murmuring of the council members, he was not the only one that was shocked by the revelation.

"But your highness! Surely there must be some mistake," some brave soul dared to mention, and Azula raised her brows imperiously. "It's barely been four months since the war ended. That couldn't have been enough time for a resistance to band together!"

"This can't be a threat to be taken seriously. It must be group of renegades. Harmless creatures that have more bravado than skill!" exclaimed another, and Azula pursed her lips.

"That is what is to be expected," she conceded, and then laid out a letter on the table before her. "Only this alliance was one formed between the Chiefs of the Northern and Southern Water Tribes, as well as the King of Ba Seng Se and the King of Omashu. All four men have the potential to do a great deal of damage to the Fire Nation.

Zuko swallowed hard as he stared down at the familiar handwriting on the parchment. The characters were barely legible- pig chicken scratch, as Katara had once called it. Zuko sucked in a breath as he stared down at the signature of the Chief of the Southern Water tribe, and his heart stopped when he read Sokka's name. "He's alive?" he whispered hoarsely, and hadn't realized that he'd spoken aloud until Azula turned to him with a smirk on her face.

"Unfortunately," she replied, and Zuko had to remind himself to breathe.

"You told me he was dead," he hissed low enough so that the other council members would be unable to hear him, and his anger built up when Azula's smirk widened.

"I was misinformed," she replied in an equally low tone, but one that was laced with amusement at his expense. She turned back towards the council, who were muttering amongst themselves.

"I propose that we strike before they have the chance to grow in number!" she exclaimed, and the muttering ceased as all eyes turned to stare at her. "The poles are of little consequence to us- we should simply decimate them. With the Avatar dead and their defenses weakened, they should put up little resistance. Their destruction will surely keep the Earth Kingdom in line."

There were several murmurs of agreement, and Zuko felt his heart take a swan dive to the pit of his stomach.

"How much would such an endeavor cost?" one of the council members asked, doubt in his voice, and Zuko silently blessed the man.

"The cost means little when our men's lives are at stake," Azula replied flippantly, and another man's voice rose up as well.

"Wouldn't we lose more men if we fought more? Surely there could be some other solution than total destruction?"

"There is none," Azula replied, her voice suddenly bordering on the dangerous. Suddenly all of the council members quieted down, and none voiced any more objections. Azula smirked. "So, it's settled," she said, and Zuko swallowed hard.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, and when Azula turned to him her eyes were dark and furious. "There is another way," he continued, ignoring her. "You all know about the Water Tribe woman that is living in the palace," he said, and there were several harrumphs and knowing winks. Zuko ignored them. "She is the Water Tribe chief's sister. I traveled with the pair of them for months, and I can safely tell you that there are no two closer human beings than Sokka and Katara."

"Get to the point," one of the men muttered, and Zuko pinned a withering glare on the man.

"The Water Tribe chief made a solemn vow to his father that he would _always_ protect his sister, and Sokka is not a man to go back on his word. All we need is one ship to go to the South Pole. All they need to do is give the Chief a letter written by me, telling him that his sister's life is in jeopardy…telling him that she will die if he doesn't give into our demands. He will obey, and so long as we have Katara, he will never challenge us again!"

There were murmurings again as the men considered his option, and he pressed forwards. "Think about it! This way, there will be no more bloodshed. No more of our soldiers will have to die! No more of our treasury's funds will have to go towards funding a war! It is the most reasonable option that we have!"

"He's right," one man said, and Zuko could feel the furious, burning weight of his sister's glare.

"Zuko," she hissed, so low that only he could hear her. If you defy me on this, I _will_ dissolve your marriage to that Water Tribe tramp," she threatened, and Zuko's heart skipped a beat. He then took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I've killed enough people as it is; I will not have her brother's death on my conscience. If that means I have to lose her as my wife, so be it," he hissed back, although his throat closed at the words. He could feel his sister's shock and anger, and knew that she had just lost her most powerful bargaining chip. The realization made his lips twitch up into a mockery of a smile.

"I agree with Fire Lord Zuko!" one of the council members exclaimed, and several others voiced their agreement.

"It is decided then," Zuko said, and the council members nodded their heads in agreement. Azula finally dipped her head in assent, and the decision was made.

For the moment, Zuko no longer felt like the villain of the story. For the briefest glimmer of time, he felt like the hero- he had saved the people of the woman that he loved. But then he thought of the cost, and his heart ached as he realized that being a hero often came at great sacrifice.

In order to save someone, a hero had to bleed.

--

**A/N: **Once again, I apologize for the long wait. I also wanted to adress something: It came to my attention that most of you are extremely disapointed with the lack of zutara yumminess, which I completely understand. However, once trust has been shattered, it takes a long time to rebuild a relationship. At this point, Zuko and Katara are in the rebuilding process. The yumminess is just a little ways away.

So, as always, your reviews are extremely appreciated. If you review this chapter, I WILL SEND YOU A SNEAK PEAK of the next one.

Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 13

"No, no, no! The ice garlands go over _there_! This is where the water lights are going to be hung! Are you completely incompetent?" Sokka winced when Suki's enraged voice carried to his ears, and he ran a hand over his face wearily. Several of the men behind him snickered when the waterbender Suki had been reprimanding flushed and stuttered, but Sokka merely sighed and strode over to his betrothed.

"Suki, honey, leave that poor man alone," he said when he had reached her side, and he winced when he saw her brows furrow together and her lips turn down at the corners.

"But he's ruining everything!" She exclaimed, and Sokka resisted the urge to groan. Suki had decided to take the burden of planning the newly rebuilt Southern Water Tribe's celebration upon her very pregnant self, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was exhausted.

Sokka glanced towards the waterbender who was now staring at the pair unabashedly, and Sokka jerked his chin slightly to let the man know that he was dismissed. The water bender bent into a quick bow before hurrying away, no doubt terrified of his Chieftain's future bride.

"You need to rest for a little while," Sokka said, wrapping his arm around Suki's shoulders and leading her towards their home, the ostentatious palace that it was.

"No I don't," Suki exclaimed stubbornly, but she didn't attempt to shake Sokka's arm off of her shoulders. Sokka felt her lean against him in spite of her protests, and his lips quirked upwards slightly in response.

"Think of the baby, Suki," he said, pressing a light kiss to her temple as he led her through overly large, too intricately carved doors, and to the miracle of bending that Pakku had named an elevator. He nodded once to the waterbender who lifted the block of ice off of the first floor and up to their private wing, and Suki sighed deeply.

"The baby, the baby…" she grumbled under her breath, but Sokka could hear the defeat in her tone. "Fine," she finally muttered, screwing her face into a frown in an attempt to demonstrate her displeasure at the necessity of rest. "Of all times to be pregnant…" she then mumbled, and Sokka squeezed her arm in sympathy.

They walked in silence for a time, and Sokka's mind started whirring at a million miles a minute. Everything was set- the women had completed Suki's new parka, and several of Pakku's water benders were busy erecting a marriage pavilion at that very moment. And most importantly, her finished necklace rested heavily in his pocket.

For the past several weeks, Sokka had slipped out of bed once Suki had fallen asleep, and had painstakingly etched lines into shell by the light of a candle. He had broken several shells at first, in his clumsy attempts, before he had finally learned exactly how much pressure to exert. The necklace wasn't quite as beautiful as he wished that it could be, but he had honestly put his heart into the effort. Somehow, he knew that Suki would recognize this, and that the sentiment behind the simple piece of jewelry would mean more to her than anything else would.

"You should probably take the rest of the day off," Sokka observed once they had reached his room and the waterbender who stood guard outside opened the ice seal. Suki threw him a withering glare as she entered, and then made a motion to the guard to close the door again. The ice quickly re-knit itself into a thick wall before Sokka's watching eyes.

"Absolutely not," Suki replied with a light toss of her head before she tossed back the furs on their bed, and then buried herself in their warmth.

"Gran-Gran can handle it," Sokka added, coming to sit beside where his intended laid. "Besides, there's going to be a huge party tonight. You're going to want to look your best, won't you? You should probably sleep those circles away," he added, gently touching the purplish bruises beneath the woman's eyes.

"But…" Suki began, her brow furrowing, and Sokka lightly kissed her forehead.

"You need the rest," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Suki heaved out a resigned sigh, and Sokka smiled. "I'll send someone up to get you ready when it's time."

"I can get myself ready," Suki grumbled, and Sokka chuckled.

"I have no doubt." He then tucked the furs snugly around the woman's body, and she spared him an amused, indulgent smile. "Sleep well," he added before bending to press his lips to her cheek.

"Mm," she said in response, her eyes already beginning to slide closed.

Sokka knocked at his door, and slipped through the exit when the water bender opened the wall of ice. The door reformed almost instantaneously, and Sokka resisted the urge to whistle as he made his way down the hall and back towards the elevator. So far, everything was going according to plan.

------------------------

Suki was shaken roughly awake, and she groaned as she was pulled from her sleep. "Go away," she mumbled softly, rolling over and curling herself around her protruding belly. There was a harsh sigh, and then the warmth of her furs were gone, leaving her to the cold polar air. She cried out indignantly, and forced herself in an upright position.

"Now don't you be complaining, Missy," Gran-Gran said, and Suki sighed before rubbing her eyes. "You've slept the day away! Now come on, get that big, pregnant belly of yours off of that bed. You don't want to miss the festivities."

Suki blinked, and then remembered. "The celebration!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet so quickly she nearly lost her balance. "How long do I have?" she demanded, and Gran-Gran laughed gruffly.

"Look at you, getting yourself all worked up. I've left you plenty of time to get ready for tonight, don't you worry," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous wink. Suki stared at the old woman for a long second before her eyes narrowed.

'What don't I know?" she demanded, and Gran-Gran chuckled.

"Now that would spoil the fun," she said, and when Suki's glare darkened, the old woman tsked. "Now, now, you know that you can't intimidate me, so don't even try. These old lips are sealed." Gran-Gran paused, and then turned to the suddenly open door. "Ah! Kippu is here!" she exclaimed, and Suki frowned for a moment before she finally placed the name. Beno's mother.

"Her hair!" Kippu exclaimed in horror when she walked in, and Suki frowned before touching her auburn locks. Her hair had grown quite a bit since she had moved to the South Pole, from her chin down to slightly past her shoulders. It was such a fuss to deal with, but after seeing how the more traditional women of the tribe had reacted to her cropped hair, she had decided that the length was worth the trouble.

"What's wrong with it?" Suki asked, fingering a strand of hair, and Kippu groaned.

"Gran-Gran! You haven't fixed it yet?" she demanded, and the old woman planted her hands on her hips as she stared the younger woman down.

"My hands are arthritic. You do it!" She snapped. "Now give me the parka."

Suki watched mutely as a large basket was passed from Kippu to Gran-Gran, and her breath caught when the old woman opened it, and pulled out what could have possibly been the most beautiful piece of clothing in the Southern Water Tribe. "Is that for me?" she whispered, and Gran-Gran grinned.

"Strip quick so we can get it on you," she said in her usual blunt way, and Suki couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face at the order. For a moment, she froze as her bare skin came into contact with the frigid air. But then the warmth fur of her new parka chased away the discomfort, and her smile widened.

"It fits like a glove!" she exclaimed, surprised. Her old parka had been a castoff of someone else's, and had been quite baggy so that she could grow with it. She ran her hands over the smooth, soft, fur, and relished in the feel of it. "But…why do I get a new parka?" she asked after several heartbeats, and she frowned when Gran-Gran and Kippu exchanged a sly glance.

"Let us do your hair, dear," Kippu merely said, not quite able to hide the smile that spread across her features. Suki's frown deepened, but she allowed her scalp to be poked and prodded, her hair yanked, curled, and twisted.

Although she must have asked hundreds of questions over the next hour, Gran-Gran and Kippu kept their silence and merely continued to exchange amused, knowing glances. When she finally descended from her room, the guard gave her a cheeky grin, and the serving girls giggled and sighed in her direction. She was instructed to meet Sokka at the newly constructed pavilion by Pakku, who tossed a wink her way before chuckling towards Gran-Gran.

By the time she met Sokka in the arranged place, she was fuming.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded angrily before he could say a word in greeting, and he merely smiled before reaching into his pocket. "What? You're not going to say anything either?" Suki demanded, and she could feel herself flush with her anger. "Well, let me tell you something, Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe! If you think you can…" she ranted, but then stopped speaking abruptly when she saw what exactly he had pulled out of his parka.

A necklace dangled before her. The shell was blue-green in color, and dangled from a ribbon of green velvet, which she knew was nearly impossible to come by in the South Pole. Instantly, she knew what it was, knew exactly what everyone had been hiding from her. She felt her anger drain away, and she merely stared at the man in front of her, who was looking just a little too pleased with himself.

"Sokka," she whispered hoarsely, her eyes fixed on the way the light settled in the crevices of the shell's engraving- a fan crossed with a boomerang. "You…you actually…" she began, but her throat was choked and her eyes were blurry from unshed tears.

Sokka fastened the clasp of the necklace around her neck, and when he stepped back, the shell fell comfortably into the hollow at her throat. "It looks right," he said softly, and then lifted his gaze to her face. "Are you ready?" he asked, and Suki merely stared at him wide eyed, her brain feeling frozen.

Suddenly, the darkness was pierced by the glow of a thousand water lights, and Suki glanced around to find the entire tribe assembled in a circle around the pavilion. "Oh my," she breathed, unable to come up with anything more articulate.

Pakku emerged from the shadows, a pleased, smug grin resting on his lips. "Are we ready to begin?" he asked, and Sokka nodded once. Suki stared between the two, and then Sokka had taken her hands between his own, and she couldn't look away from the intense blue of his eyes.

"Say the vows after me, Sokka." Pakku instructed, and then Suki's eyes flew open wide. A wedding… _her wedding…_ The tribe was celebrating their home's restoration with their Chieftain's marriage. Despite her resolve to stay stiff lipped, Suki felt her eyes water.

"You are my wife," Sokka was saying, and Suki sniffed, which prompted the man to squeeze her hands tightly, and his lips quirk upwards. "My feet shall run because of you. My feet dance because of you. My eyes see because of you. My mind thinks because of you. And I shall love because of you."

"Suki," Pakku prompted, and Suki sniffled hard and wiped away her tears before they froze to her cheeks. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice strong and steady as she repeated the traditional Water Tribe vows after Pakku, her gaze never straying from Sokka's.

"She is yours," Pakku finally said, and Sokka grinned before he leaned down and kissed her roughly, before the eyes of his people. Suki gasped, and then wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself as close to him as her pregnant belly would allow.

"I love you," She whispered when they had pulled apart, and Sokka grinned.

"I love you too," Sokka replied quietly, his voice so low and serious that her heart melted. She could hear his…_their_…tribe cheering around them, and she grinned wider than she had in ages; her heart felt lighter than it had since they had lost the war. Sokka was more animated than usual as well, she noted, more of a sparkle in his face than there had been in some time. And yet… there were shadows in his handsome face as well. There was a touch of sorrow there, of resignation, that Suki knew had everything to do with his sister. Thinking of Katara made Suki's happiness dim, and she recalled a different wedding, one whose vows were spoken in an ancient tongue, performed before a roaring fire. She remembered how bright Katara's eyes had been, how wide Zuko's smile, and her heart grieved.

Sokka looked down at her in that moment, and suddenly the smile was gone from his face, just as surely as it had fled from hers. "I know," he whispered softly, and Suki took in a shuddering breath before laying a hand on his arm.

"Let's not think about it. Not tonight," she breathed, and Sokka nodded once in response before leaning down to press a second, chaste kiss to her lips. And yet, the night suddenly seemed less bright, dimmer than it should have been.

Suki took a shuddering breath before she and Sokka threw themselves into the mass that was their people, and she soon lost herself in their smile, their laughter, and their warm, affectionate nature. After several hours of feasting and dancing, the Fire Nation seemed so far away- how could anything so horrible exist when there were such bright, caring people in the world?

And then, just as a feeling of warmth and safety, and contentment came over them, terror struck. The drums posted on each watchtower of the wall began to pound frantically, each clash bringing more fear than the first. The drums were only to be used on one occasion…to warn them of the Fire Nation Navy. Suddenly, there was panic. Children were running frantically towards their mothers, women were running towards the heart of the palace, the meeting room, and the most well protected area of their tribe. Men were withdrawing weapons that had been concealed all night, the edges glittering dangerously in the fire's glow.

Suki leapt to suddenly strong legs, her heart pounding, her hands clenching at her sides. She pulled a dagger out of her boot, and her breath came in quick gasps as adrenaline coursed through her veins. It had been so long since she had seen battle, even though the fight had been her life for as long as she could remember. She had never thought she would miss this feeling, this sudden surge of feeling that left all of her other faculties numb. And yet, she was finding that she relished in it.

"Suki," She was hyper alert to Sokka's low voice, and she turned quickly to meet his gaze. His eyes were blue steel, and she knew what he was going to say even before he opened his mouth. "Go with the women, now."

Suki took in a deep breath, set her jaw, and glared at her husband. "No," she replied forcefully. For months now, she had simply acted the part of a woman, ignoring the warrior that she had been all her life. But now, now her home, her husband, and her child needed her protection. It was time to be a warrior once more.

"Suki," Sokka muttered, a hard edge to his voice as he grabbed her shoulders. "You're vulnerable right now," he said, his gaze flicking downwards. "Think of the baby."

Suki lifted her chin, and squared her shoulders. "I am," she returned, her voice sharp and determined.

Sokka merely stared at her for a long moment before he lightly brushed his knuckles across her jaw. "Please, Suki?" he whispered, his voice breaking as he pled. Suki felt her heart lurch at the pain in his face, but her resolve never faltered.

"My place is here, with my husband," she replied, her voice softer than it had been before as she lightly covered his hand with her own. She watched as his shoulders slumped in defeat before he sighed and straightened his spine.

"Stay safe," he murmured finally and Suki smiled.

"You'll have my back. I don't need to worry," she replied, and a sudden, weary smile touched her husband's face at the faith she displayed in his abilities. He leaned down and kissed her in one quick, rough gesture. And then he was striding over to Pakku, Suki hot on his heels.

"A small fleet," Pakku explained, and Sokka nodded brusquely.

"Have they pulled out the cannons yet?" he demanded, and Pakku shook his head. He looked over to where Suki stood beside her husband, his eyes narrowing in speculation. Suki glared at him fiercely, and he turned his attention back towards Sokka.

Just then, the sound of the drums changed. There was a slower pace to then now, not quite so panicked as before. Pakku's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open in a rare display of true emotion. "A white flag," he murmured. "They come in peace."

Sokka was shaking his head even as the words were coming from Pakku's mouth. "Impossible," he muttered, stalking towards the watchtowers. Pakku and Suki quickly followed in his wake, and somewhere down the line, Beno materialized beside them.

A waterbender quickly bent them up the ice elevator to the top of the wall, where Sokka hurried towards the watch tower to peer through the looking glass. "A white flag," he repeated softly when he pulled his face away from the lens, his expression troubled. "It must be a trick. That bastard Zuko must…"

"Zuko wouldn't do that," Suki said quickly, and she felt Sokka's incredulous gaze turn on her. "He knows how much this place means to Katara. He wouldn't destroy it."

"He destroyed Aang! He destroyed Toph!" Sokka was suddenly shouting. Suki didn't flinch.

"But he saved Katara. He will make sure to save her and everything that belongs to her. He would never attack this place," she said fiercely, and then looked towards the boats again. "Besides, hanging a white flag before attacking a small tribe sounds more like Azula."

Suki watched as Sokka bent down towards the lens again, worrying at her bottom lip. Suppose the ships were here on Azula's orders. Suppose...suppose the Fire Nation had found out about the treaties! Suki's stomach did an odd little flip at that thought, and she swallowed bile. If that were the case, no one, no man, woman, or child, would escape Azula's wrath.

"They're sending out a messenger. Beno, we're going out to meet them," Sokka said, drawing away. Suki's breath caught in her throat, and she went to move towards her husband, but he held up his hand. "That is the next chieftain that you're carrying," he said, pointing towards her distended stomach, visible even through her parka. "You're staying here."

He then turned towards Pakku and set his features into a hard line. "If anything happens to me, keep the men in line until my child is old enough to take my position. I want you to rule while he is too young, and to assist him when he gets old enough to accept the title."

Pakku nodded, and Suki let out a harsh breath. "You listen to me, mister," she said, grabbing his parka and pulling him towards her. "You are coming back to me. Do you understand?" she demanded, her face inches away from his. Sokka pulled her against him and kissed her roughly, thoroughly, heedless of whoever was watching. Suki closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, even as he squeezed his arms in a vice around her middle.

When he finally released her, he hovered close, his hot breath wafting over her face. "Yes ma'am," he replied with a slight, small grin before giving her a quick peck on the lips, turning on his heel, and stalking away. Suki stared after him, feeling heartsick and afraid. The warrior had fled, and she was fully woman once more.

-----------------

_Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, _

_You are no doubt curious as to why you are on a Fire Nation ship and headed towards our country without a word of explanation. No doubt, you are also planning on sending messages to the Chief Arnook of the Water Tribe, as well as Kings Kuie and Bumi of the Earth Kingdom. I would strictly advise you from doing so. _

_We have been informed of you alliances with the Northern Water Tribe, and the Earth Kingdom. This is an open declaration of war upon our country, and it is within our right to send our navy to destroy your village and take your people captive. However, we are willing to extend some measure of mercy to you. _

_We will not attack your people; however, we fear we must bring to your attention that we have your sister in our custody. So long as you cooperate with us, both your tribe and your sister will remain safe. However, should you not break your alliances and dismantle whatever army you have been amassing, Katara's blood will be on your hands. Should even the death of your sister not be enough to curb your ambition, we will send the largest, and most powerful fleet our navy possesses to destroy the remnants of your tribe. _

_You are on your way to the Fire Nation so that you may ascertain that your sister is, in fact, alive and well. Also, while here, you are to sign several documents that will break any and all alliances you have made thus far… should you decide that your sister's life is more important than your tribe's freedom. _

_Her life is in your hands. _

_Fire Lord Zuko _

_----------------------------_

"You bastard!" Sokka shouted, launching himself forwards so suddenly and violently that he managed to break out of the guards' hold. Before they had a chance to restrain him, he swung his arm and punched Zuko solidly in the jaw, smirking in triumph when he heard something crack. But then the guards grabbed him again, and forced him down to his knees.

He had traveled for weeks on a spirits forsaken Fire Nation ship, driven mad with worry over his sister, his wife, his unborn child, and his tribe. And this man, this horrible, despicable, useless waste of a life was to blame.

Sokka stared up at Zuko through angry, hate filled blue eyes as the young Fire Lord gingerly rubbed his jaw with a long, pale hand. "I deserved that," he said softly, his voice not nearly as arrogant or self righteous as Sokka had thought it would be. Rather it was quiet and hoarse, sadder, more laden with guilt than he had ever remembered it being.

"Damn right," Sokka snapped, his eyes blazing as he struggled against the arms of two older and much stronger men. He refused to imagine that the poor excuse for a man before him had endured pain of any sort. This was a cruel, sadistic monster, and nothing more.

Zuko's eyes suddenly turned to steel, and his purpling jaw squared. "You will never do that again," he ordered, and Sokka laughed darkly.

"Want to bet?" he demanded, and he simmered with anger when he watched the Fire Lord shake his head slowly.

"I'm not a betting man," Zuko replied, and Sokka's eyes narrowed.

"No. You're just a lying one," the young Chieftain retorted, and satisfaction filled him when he saw the Fire Lord's eyes skitter away from his form.

"That is irrelevant," the man said after a long time of silence, and Sokka glowered.

"What my sister saw in you I will never know," he spat, and his glare darkened when Zuko replied with a dark chuckle.

"Neither will I," the Fire Lord replied, his eyes distant again, his voice pained. Sokka gritted his teeth and reminded himself that the man before him had both taken his baby sister's virtue and broken her heart. Zuko deserved his hatred, deserved all of the suffering that hell could bestow.

"I should kill you," Sokka ground out, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he imagined the satisfaction he would gain by slicing the pompous Fire Lord's head clean off of his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed. "I _will_ kill you."

"I have no doubt that you would if you could," the Fire Lord replied, staring down at where Sokka writhed in the heavily armored guards' grasp. "…but you will not. You forget that your sister is only alive because I wish for her to be. If I were not the Fire Lord, she would be dead already. So you see, Sokka, in killing me, you effectively kill your sister." The Fire Lord paused, and then a corner of his lips turned up slightly in a mockery of a smile. "We both know you would do anything to keep her alive."

"I hate you," Sokka seethed. "You're no better than Ozai!"

"Watch your tongue!" the Fire Lord finally snapped, his gold eyes suddenly blazing with anger. "I have only allowed you to speak to me thus far because what I did to you and your family was of the utmost dishonor. If you were anyone else, you would be dead by now. But even I have my limits, Chief Sokka. You will not speak to me in such a way ever again. And you will _not_ disrespect the late Fire Lord while you are in this country. Do I make myself clear?"

Sokka glowered. "Perfectly," he muttered, his blue eyes gone deep with rage.

The Fire Lord stood before him for a full minute, silence falling over the cavernous throne room. Finally, the man sighed and turned away. "I trust that you will not attack the members of my court if your hands aren't chained together?"

"Of course not," Sokka replied darkly. "_I_ don't kill innocent people."

The Fire Lord's lips tightened and Sokka relished in the guilt that washed over the man's features. Then, the Fire Lord composed himself and turned towards one of the guards that stood against the far wall. "Ryu will take you to your sister's rooms." He paused, and then his lips twisted into a slightly boyish, crooked smile that Sokka refused to remember. "Try to stay out of trouble," he said softly, and Sokka pinned a glare on the man, pushing away memories of a time when they had been friends. The Fire Lord made a dismissive gesture, and the guard that he had pointed to immediately came to Sokka's side and proceeded to pull him towards the door.

Sokka balked and went to pull his arm away, his eyes glittering with anger, his pride smarting. The soldier called Ryu clamped his hand down almost to the point of pain, and Sokka grit his teeth together. "Pull yourself together!" the man snapped in a harsh whisper from beneath his helmet, and Sokka glowered. "You'll only frighten Katara if she sees you like this. That poor girl has been through more than you know, and I will not allow you to upset her, do you understand me?"

Sokka stopped struggling abruptly, his throat closing. This man knew Katara… and quite well if he was attempting to protect her from her own brother. "That's better," Ryu grunted, and Sokka swallowed hard. They were winding their way up a staircase now, no doubt taking the servant's route so as not to disturb the members of the Fire Lord's court.

"You know Katara?" Sokka managed to push out of a suddenly dry throat, and the man beside him nodded once as they stepped off the stairs and onto the landing.

"I'm one of her personal guards. The Fire Lord entrusted her to Lieutenant Jee and I…"

"Jee!" Sokka exclaimed. "Jee's here?" he demanded, and Ryu nodded from behind his helmet. "We stayed with him just before the invasion! He's the one who arranged Zuko and Katara's marriage…" Sokka trailed off, and then glared at the wall. "I should hit him for that," he muttered.

"I already took care of that," Ryu muttered under his breath, and the combination of anger and amusement in his tone was enough to cause Sokka to turn and stare at the masked guard again. The man walked in silence, his faceplate preventing Sokka from reading the expression written on his features. Sokka said nothing.

"What's going on with the kid?" Sokka asked after a long period of silence, his mind flitting to the dark haired child that his sister and the bastard had so doted on.

"Princess Nozomi spends a great deal of time with both of her parents," Ryu replied, and Sokka's eyes widened.

"You mean Katara honestly lets that little girl around that murderer?" Sokka demanded, aghast. The Fire Lord obviously had no difficulty killing children… who could say whether or not he could be trusted with little Nimi's well being?

"Katara lets Nimi be with her _father,_" Ryu replied, and Sokka's mouth dropped.

"Zuko's not…" he began, but stopped mid-sentence to let out a oomph of pain when Ryu stepped on his foot with a metal boot.

"The walls have ears. Don't say anything more about that," Ryu warned gruffly, so lowly that Sokka almost didn't hear him.

Sokka finally nodded, and the pair remained silent for the duration of their journey. After an interminable time, Ryu knocked on a large, elaborately carved door. A small, middle aged woman opened it, her gaze flicking over Sokka briefly before she stepped aside. Sokka took in her wary gaze, the way she wrung her hands together. She was worried about something obviously. Surely not about him?

"Katara," Ryu called out as he walked to the center of the elaborate bedchamber. For a moment, Sokka gaped in awe at the rich, violet silks, gold embroidery, and smatters of blue that adorned the vast room. And then his eyes fell upon a slight, small figure at the window, brown hair falling in a riotous, curly mass down a silk robed back. Ryu stopped at her side and touched her elbow lightly, and the girl turned just enough so that Sokka could catch a glimpse of her profile.

_Katara._

Sokka's mouth went dry, and all he could do was to stare in a combination of relief and horror at the girl turned woman just across the room. She was thin, painfully so, her complexion lighter than it had ever been. Her small, slender wrists looked weighted down by the bangles that hung from them, and there was something about the way she held her shoulders, something about the way she had turned to face Ryu that was entirely wrong. A heartbeat later, she turned slightly and met his gaze.

Sokka watched as her entire body froze, her large eyes widening as she caught sight of him. He could see her taking him in, noting the new scars, reading the pain of failure and loss in his face and his stance. She didn't rush into his arms like she once would have, didn't break into a smile and a laugh, and tossed a dry remark his way. She merely stood, her lips parted, her too thin arms wrapped about her too thin frame.

This was not the Katara he had known and helped to raise, the willful girl who had stood up to one of the most powerful water benders in the world, the naïve child who had been able to comfort complete strangers with one soft smile and tender word. This was a different woman, one who had known too much pain, a jaded, sorrowful thing older than her years.

"Sokka?" the stranger with his sister's face whispered, sounding weak, and vulnerable, and yet the slightest bit of hope touched her voice as well.

Sokka walked towards her slowly, staring into blue eyes that were too sad, too dull, too weary to belong to his vibrant little sister. And yet, they did. This woman was a stranger to him now, but in another lifetime, he had known her better than he'd known himself, had loved her more than anyone else. "Katara," he breathed, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue.

The woman's face suddenly crumpled, and blue eyes filled with tears. Moments later, the frail creature was in his arms, burying her face against his neck, clutching his shirt in fisted hands. She was silent as she cried, although her shoulders heaved and he could feel the wet of her tears seeping through his shirt. He swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around his sister turned stranger, closing his eyes and pretending that they were still children, that he could heal her pain with a kiss and a smile. And he cursed Zuko in his mind for ruining the bright eyed, laughing girl that he had loved so dearly. If for nothing else, the Fire Lord deserved death for the destruction of what had once been so beautiful.

------------------

And once again, I apologize for the long wait. Please review!


	15. Chapter 14

They were lying in the garden, her head resting on his shoulder. "I can't believe you're really here," Katara whispered, and she smiled slightly when she felt Sokka squeeze her arm. "I…I thought you were…" she murmured, and then closed her eyes tightly, unable to finish her sentence.

"I'm not," Sokka replied gruffly, and Katara could hear the emotion in his voice.

He had changed, this brother of hers. He was taller than he had been the last time she'd seen him, so that he now towered over her. His hands were larger, broader, his face set into harder lines. The smile was gone from his eyes, the bounce from his step. He walked as though he was weighted down with a heavy burden; his voice was gravelly when he spoke, as though it pained him to do so. And he was wiser… so much wiser. Somewhere down the line, he had learned the arts of patience and silence. He had grown up.

She missed the child that he had been.

"How's Suki?" Katara finally asked after a long period of silence, idly running her fingertips over blades of grass. Sokka's gaze was fixed up at the endless blue of the Fire Nation sky, his jaw locked, his brow furrowed.

"She's well," he replied softly after some time, and Katara could see that the separation was beginning to take its toll on him. "I married her," he added a heartbeat later, and Katara managed a smile.

"It's about time," she replied softly, and then sighed deeply as she allowed her eyes to slide close. The sun was warm, but the grass she laid on was cool. Fall had descended upon the Fire Nation, and while the sun was still very much present, the wind now had a chill to it that it hadn't had before. The combination of cool wind and scorching sun was absolutely exhilarating at some times, and beyond soothing at others. Now, Katara felt the urge to sleep, warmed as she was by the sun above her and her brother beside her. For the first time in a long time, she felt content.

"I can't believe he didn't tell you," Sokka finally muttered through clenched teeth, and Katara yawned and pushed herself up on her elbow to look over at him.

"Hm?" she replied lazily, smiling slightly as the wind brushed a strand of her hair against her cheek. Sokka's face was tense though, his eyes hard, his mouth set in a hard line.

"All this time, he let you think I was dead," he growled at long last, and Katara bit her lower lip, the afternoon suddenly seeming a lot less pleasant.

"He's done a lot of stupid things," she replied softly, letting out a sigh and playing with the grass again. "It doesn't surprise me anymore."

"You're not angry with him?" Sokka demanded, pushing himself up into a sitting position and looking down at her. Katara glanced down at the ground where her fingers continued to brush against the very tips of the soft carpet of earth.

"Zuko is…complicated. There was a reason why he didn't tell me," she said after several moments, and then she shook her head slightly. "I might not like it, but he didn't keep the information from me to hurt me." She paused, and then sighed again. "Besides, he was convinced that you were dead for a long time. He must have found out very recently…"

"I was on that damn ship for two weeks, Katara!" Sokka exclaimed, his hard features suddenly twisted with anger. "That was at least two weeks that he knew and you didn't! He should have told you!"

"Yes," Katara agreed immediately, but there was no anger present in her voice. "Yes, he should have," she said again, her voice calm. She sighed softly when she saw Sokka's brow furrow deeper, and she closed her eyes. "He doesn't think as much as he should. He makes a lot of mistakes," she said, and her eyes snapped open when she felt Sokka's massive paw close around her wrist.

"Why are you excusing him?" he demanded, and Katara frowned.

"I'm not excusing him," she replied, meeting her brother's frustrated, angry gaze. "I'm just stating facts," she added a moment later, and she watched as Sokka sat motionless for several moments, reading her face for something she didn't know was there. Her brow furrowed deeper when he abruptly let go of her, his eyes widening in horror.

"You're still in love with him," he said, his voice hoarse, terrified, and disgusted all at once.

Katara's breath caught in her throat. "No! No, of course I'm not! I…he…" Katara replied immediately, surprised when she felt her face growing warm and her heart pounding erratically. "I…I don't…" Katara struggled to draw in a breath, and her heart stopped when Sokka turned away from her in disgust.

"Sokka!" she exclaimed, and he shook his head.

"You were there with him! You saw what he did with your own eyes! How the hell could you actually…" he trailed off and shook his head before pushing himself to his feet and walking several paces away. Katara felt a twisting in her gut and a pain in her chest as she watched him do so.

"But, I… I don't," she whispered, the words sounding empty even to herself. "I _can't,_" she added softly, more for her own benefit than for her brother's. She withdrew each memory of every awful thing he had ever done; turned it over, examined it in her mind's eye. When he tied her to a tree, his betrayal beneath the caves of Ba Seng Se, his neglect to tell her of Azula's plans for Chameleon Bay, his defection to Azula, the murder of Aang, the night he raped her in her own room, when he had hit her in the harem…

Her face contorted as pain seared through her at the remembrance of each scene, but she forced herself to remember every last detail. She could never love him again, because of everything that he had already done as well as everything he still stood to do.

She hadn't realized that she was crying until she felt Sokka wipe her tears away, his brow furrowed, his eyes distressed. "I'm sorry, Kata," he murmured, not quite meeting her eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he added softly, and Katara shook her head quickly.

"You would never hurt me," she responded quickly, and then winced when she realized that once upon a time, she had said a similar thing to Zuko. Sokka caught the expression, she could tell from the way his mouth hardened and from the sudden stillness of his hands.

"I should kill him," he muttered beneath his breath, and Katara quickly clasped his fisted hand between both of her own, her eyes wide.

"No," she whispered, the thought of Zuko's death causing her more pain than it should have. She closed her eyes, and heaved out a harsh sigh. "Please, Sokka… don't say that again. Hasn't there been enough killing already?" She paused, and then bowed her head. "Toph…Aang…how many of us have to die?" she choked out, hunching her shoulders.

Suddenly, Sokka's arms were around her, her head pressed to his shoulder, her body cradled against him as though she were a child again. He didn't say anything, didn't make any promises, or give her any words of comfort. He merely held her close, his warmth letting her know that she wasn't alone in her grief; that he was there for her; that he understood. And for some reason, that gave her more comfort than words ever could.

"How many of _us_?" he finally murmured after a long time, and Katara shuddered in his embrace, the feeling of comfort beginning to trickle away. "He isn't one of us, Katara. Not anymore," he added softly, pressing his lips to her temple.

"I know," Katara replied softly, squeezing her eyes closed. Other images assailed her mind now, images of a time long passed…a time that seemed almost like a fairy tale in comparison to the reality that she now dwelt in. She saw Zuko sitting beside her, holding her in his arms during the raid. She saw Zuko and Sokka lying before the fire, laughing with one another after returning from a hunt. She saw Zuko and Toph pouting on the sand while she had been splashing in the water with the rest of their…_her_ family. She remembered how he would wake with Nozomi late at night, and pace the room with her to ease the child's cries. And then there was the betrayal, and the death, and the pain… "I know," Katara said again, burying her head deeper into her brother's shoulder as she desperately tried and failed to block out the past.

"Come away with me," Sokka whispered softly, and Katara started in his arms.

"What?" she hissed, and quickly glanced around her, dread coiling in the pit of her stomach.

"I'll sneak you out. Whiten your face with powder, change clothes with one of your servants. I'll smuggle you onto the ship that's taking me home," Sokka continued, and Katara paled.

"Are you out of your mind?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, pushing away from and staring at him with eyes full of horror. "We'd never make it. Zuko would never let me go… and even if he would be willing to let me go home Azula would still keep me here. I'm her insurance policy. Once I go, there's nothing to stop your from reforming your alliances and trying to invade the Fire Nation again!"

"Exactly," Sokka replied, his eyes suddenly alight with something akin to hope.

Katara shook her head furiously. "We'd be caught even before we made it to the palace gates. She'd have us both killed, and then she'd invade our home. Suki's there, and your baby, and Gran-Gran, and Beno, and…well, everybody. They'd all be killed, Sokka!"

Sokka was silent for a time, and his eyes dimmed again. "Fine. I'll have to leave you here then, but only for a little while. We'll strengthen our defenses at the South Pole, get more Water Benders, and build a bigger wall. Then I'll come back for you, and take you home. And when the Fire Nation comes after us, we'll be able to beat them back…" Sokka's gaze was far away then, his brow furrowed. Katara knew that face well. He was planning all this in his head now, examining every which angle in his mind. "We can have the Earth Kingdom on standby. Their navy can sail in and help us surround the Fire Nation armada. Once they're surrounded, it will be all too easy to decimate them. With the armada out of the way, we'd be able to launch a full scale invasion on the Fire Nation itself…"

"Sokka! Stop it!" Katara exclaimed, shaking her head. "It isn't going to work! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Don't you get it, Katara? You could still have your happy ending! We're going to fight back against the Fire Nation, and we're going to win, and…and everything will go back to the way it used to be!" Sokka exclaimed, taking his sister's hands between his own.

Katara was silent for a long moment, and then she gently withdrew her hands from her brother's and folded them in her lap. "Don't you understand, Sokka? There are no such things as happy endings," she murmured softly, running her fingertips over the grass again, unable to meet her brother's gaze. "Not in real life, anyway," she added in a whisper.

"That's not true," Sokka countered, but the words sounded dull and empty to both of their ears.

"If our lives had been a fairy tale, everything would have been so different," Katara mused, her gaze suddenly drawn upwards to the bright blue, cloudless sky above them. "We would have won the war, for one, and Aang and Toph would still be here with us. I would have stood by Aang's side, married him eventually. Zuko would have returned to Mai and become Fire Lord… There would have been no broken hearts…." Katara stopped speaking abruptly. "It's no use thinking about it," she finished quickly, and Sokka frowned.

"Katara…"

"Stop it, Sokka. Stop living in the past. The Fire Nation's won, and that's that. There's nothing any of us can do, except for to accept it."

"We can fight," Sokka insisted resolutely, and Katara frowned.

'Yes, Sokka. You can fight…but if you fight, you are certain to die. And there has been more than enough death already."

Sokka stared at his sister for a long moment before shaking his head. "You were always so passionate, Katara. So willing to fight for whatever it was that you wanted or believed in. It drove me crazy sometimes…your determination and your stubbornness, but it was part of your character. I never thought that your spirit could be broken. I always thought you were too strong for that. But now…" he trailed off and shook his head.

"Why don't you just say it Sokka? My spirit is broken. I'm weak, I'm small, and I've lost all my fire." She paused, and watched her brother flinch at her bluntness. "Go ahead and say it. It's nothing but the truth."

"Katara…"

Katara pushed herself to her feet and shook her head. "Don't do this Sokka. Don't subject our people to any more pain." She paused and closed her eyes, steeling herself for what needed to be said. "I love you so much. And I miss the South Pole more than I can say. I miss Gran-Gran, I miss Suki…I miss the penguins, I miss ice fishing…" She paused for a moment, and then smiled a little. "I even miss the cold."

She licked her lips and took in a deep breath. "But I don't think I'll ever be able to go home. I want to so, so badly. But I can't be selfish. I can't allow the people and the place I love to be harmed. So I have to stay here. I have to stay so that all of you can be safe."

"Don't throw your life away like this!" Sokka exclaimed, moving to stand beside her and grab her small shoulders roughly in his calloused hands. "You don't have to sacrifice yourself!"

"Yes, Sokka, I do."

Brother and sister gazed into each other's eyes for a long time before Sokka finally dropped his gaze to the ground in defeat. Katara's spirit may have been broken, but there was still strength in her, still a great deal of determination. She might have lost all hope for herself, but she was still determined to keep the people she loved safe.

"I love you," Sokka whispered softly, closing his eyes against the pain that even the thought of permanent separation brought him.

"I know," Katara replied quietly, and she gently squeezed one of the hands that still rested on her shoulders. "And that's why you're going to have to let me go."

------------------------

Suki bit down on the hemp cord that Gran-Gran had given her, and her face contorted in anguish. Despite her desperate attempts to keep silent, a scream found it's way through her clenched teeth and pierced the bustle of the room. She was naked and flushed, sweat dripping from her body, her face streaked with tears. After a moment, the contraction eased, and she slumped over, grateful for the momentary reprieve. Her hands ached from gripping the well worn sealskin hand bars so tightly, and she couldn't catch her breath.

"You're doing very well, Suki," Gran-Gran encouraged, wiping the sweat from Suki's body with a coarse cloth. "You don't have much time left."

Suki certainly hoped not. Her birthing waters had cascaded from her body in the middle of the morning, and by late afternoon, the contractions had come with increasing intensity. It was now so late that most of the villagers had retired for the night, yet Suki remained awake and straining.

Suki gripped the hand bars again as she felt another wave of pain radiate through her belly. "Push," Gran-Gran ordered, and Suki did so, her head falling backwards and her back arching as she gave a mighty heave. Gran-Gran was stroking her thigh, speaking nonsense that she couldn't begin to understand through the pain.

"I want Sokka," Suki whimpered when the contraction had eased, but before she had gotten the chance to take in a deep breath. She then heaved in a gulp full of air, and felt a shuddering sob rip out of her chest. "I want Sokka," she repeated again, not caring that tears were falling freely down her face.

"Now, now. That foolish young thing is the one who did this to you," Gran-Gran replied with a cluck of her tongue. "Besides, even if he was here he wouldn't be allowed in the room until you and the baby were all cleaned up."

"I don't care," Suki replied through her tears. "I want him here with me! But he's an ocean away, and...and…he might never come home to me!" She wailed, and Gran-Gran lightly slapped her with the towel to distract her before she was overcome with a wave of hysteria.

"Of course he'll come home, you little goose snail," the old woman said lightly, and then her expression changed when she saw Suki's face contort again. "Now push."

Suki complied, another cry ripping from her throat as she pushed with all the energy she had. Her thighs ached from squatting for so long, and her body was shaking from exhaustion, but nothing could compare to the pain that was tearing through her core. Finally she stopped, her chest heaving as she struggled to take in a breath. Her hair was dripping with sweat, and strands of it hung in her eyes.

Gran-Gran's hand was suddenly between her legs again, but Suki no longer felt embarrassment. There was no room for modesty in childbirth. "The baby's crowning," Gran-Gran said when she withdrew, wiping her bloody fingers off on a nearby rag. "You only have a few pushes more to go."

It was at that moment that another contraction ripped through Suki's body, and she pushed harder than she had before, desperate for the pain to come to an end. And then suddenly, this pain was different from the rest. There was the pain of the contraction, yes, but it was as though something had numbed her, and it was a relief to push. And then there was the feeling of something large and hard coming out of her opening, and her breath quickened as she realized that she was nearing the end of the pain.

"The head is out," Gran-Gran said, and she quickly crouched down and Suki could feel the old woman's gnarled hands brush against her as they wrapped around the baby's neck. "Quickly, Suki. One more push!" Gran-Gran exclaimed, and Suki let out a cry as she did so. And then the rest of the baby slipped out of her body, and into Gran-Gran's waiting arms.

There was a horrifying moment of silence afterwards, until Gran-Gran smacked the child on the bottom and it let out a loud, warbling, healthy cry. Suki slumped over with relief, the pain no longer mattering to her, tears of joy rolling down her face. "A son," Gran-Gran said, holding bloody infant up proudly.

Suki laughed breathily, and held out her arms, staring at the scrunched, red, wrinkled, blood covered face of her baby and thinking that she had never seen anything quite so beautiful in all her life. "In a moment," Gran-Gran said gruffly before turning away from Suki, and proceeding to scrub the baby down with salt and warm water. Suki watched the woman's every move with wary, suddenly extremely protective eyes. And then there was another pain in her abdomen, less intense than before. "Girl," Gran-Gran said, motioning to a young servant that had been keeping the water warm over the course of the labor. "Help her," she ordered, jerking her chin in Suki's direction.

The girl scrambled over to Suki, and when the new mother had passed out the afterbirth, the girl quickly cleaned up the mess.

"My baby," Suki breathed, holding her arms out insistently as a grinning Gran-Gran brought the swaddled, red faced, wailing infant over to his mother. Suki's breath caught as her son was placed in her arms, and for several moments, all she could do was stare into his wrinkled, contorted, beautiful little face.

She held him close to her chest, and the baby frantically turned his head at the contact. "Oh," Suki breathed, recognizing the signs of rooting. "Here," she murmured gently, helping her son latch onto her. Her breath caught at the strange sensation of her son's suckling, and then suddenly the room fell silent save for the soft, mewling noises her son made as he drank. "Little piggy," she whispered tenderly, rocking back and forth as she nursed him, a soft, radiant smile resting on her face.

"He's a big baby," Gran-Gran said, pride in her voice. "Sturdy and healthy. He should survive just fine."

"Mm," Suki replied softly as she continued to rock back and forth.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Gran-Gran asked, and Suki nodded without looking away from her child.

"Hakoda, after his grandfather… little Hakoda…"

There was a long moment of thick silence, and Suki could have sworn she heard a sniffle. "That's a fine name," Gran-Gran said, her voice choked. Suki abruptly remembered that Hakoda had been Kana's son…Kana had held him in her arms just as Suki now held her baby. She had never realized before just how crushed Gran-Gran must have been when she learned of her son's death, but now, looking down into the face of her infant, Suki felt the old woman's anguish as though it were her own. Her arms tightened around her child, and she swallowed thickly, pushing thoughts of losing him to the back of her mind.

Hakoda's mouth ceased its frantic movement on her breast, and Suki looked down to see that the infant had drifted off to sleep. Gently, she pressed against her nipple to break the suction and then softly stroked her baby's face. "Do you want to hold him?" she asked softly, glancing up at the woman who had become a grandmother to her in all but blood, and watched as the craggy visage softened.

"Well, of course I want to hold him! He's my great grandson, isn't he?" Gran-Gran snapped in her usual cranky manner, but the softness of her face combined with the smile on her lips negated it's usual effect. Suki grinned and carefully lifted the baby and held him out to his great grandmother, waking him in the process.

"Careful of his head," Suki cautioned once he was in Gran-Gran's arms, her hands fluttering around the infant uselessly.

Gran-Gran raised her brows. "I've had a son of my own and two grandchildren, missy, and I'm the midwife of this tribe. I think I know how to hold a baby," replied, and Suki flushed slightly before shrugging her shoulders in apology. Gran-Gran humphed, and then turned her attention back to little Hakoda.

Suki watched as Gran-Gran's face gnarled old hands gently stroked her newborn's cheek, watched as the pain of years of war began to fade away as the old women stared into the face of the innocent infant. And suddenly Suki was flooded with the certainty that one day all the pain and suffering would end; that one day, the world would be at peace. Content, she drifted into sleep.

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**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait and for how short this chapter was... but I felt bad that I haven't posted in so long and felt like I owed you guys some sort of an update. Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 15

The Fire Nation sun was scorching, but beneath the canopy of the leaves of her garden, Mai found respite from the heat. It was a place of untamed beauty, where flowering plants and ivy wound together beneath the trees, where bushes grew wild and unclipped, stretching their branches in every which direction. Mai allowed her plants to grow as they pleased, to reach into places that they shouldn't, to be messy and imperfect. She herself had been clipped and pruned, molded into someone else's idea of perfection. This garden was her silent rebellion.

She had begun cultivating this place when she was nine years old, after one of her family's many gardeners had piqued her interest in fauna. The woman had showed her the pleasure that could be obtained by getting dirt caked under perfectly manicured nails; had taught her the beauty that could be found in the untamed. And most importantly, she had taught her the secrets that certain plants held behind their façade of beauty.

Under the old woman's tutelage, Mai learned the dark secrets that so many plants held. She learned which plants caused paralysis, which induced fevers, which stopped the repertory system, and even which caused sudden and painless death. In addition, she learned which plants could ease pain, treat sicknesses, and counteract poisons. Often, the same plant could give both life and death. It was their duel nature that fascinated her most: that something so beautiful and so helpful could also be so deadly.

At first, her mother had been completely supportive of her hobby. The woman had her own garden- a perfectly manicured one filled with Fire Lillies, Lady's Breath, and Scarlet Roses. Later, however, when she saw the wild and untamed nature of Mai's garden, filled with deadly plants bearing small berries and pungent leaves, the noble woman had pleaded with her daughter to care for something more civilized. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

The garden had quickly become Mai's sanctuary. When her porcelain façade began to crack, she would escape to the place of dark beauty and cultivate the plants that grew within. She became adept at extracting both poison and medicine from the plants, and by the time she was fifteen, she had accumulated more skill and knowledge than most physicians and learned men who were over forty years her senior.

The medicine that she created she would bring to her mother, who would then distribute it throughout their home or sell it to but herself a pretty, useless trinket. The poisons, however, she kept for herself…and gave to Azula. The Fire Lady had tested the poisons on animals as a child, but as she grew, she expanded her horizons. She had taken Mai's work, and used it to kill or intimidate generals who had gotten in her way as well as torture servants who made her particularly angry. Just since being named Fire Lady, Mai had handed over countless vials, not quite sure who they were going to be used on, and neither did she want to know.

Mai swallowed and gently touched a leaf of one of her plants tenderly. Fire Sage's Beads, it was called. It was tall, almost fern like in appearance, with open pods of crimson seeds. The plant itself was harmless, but the seeds were deadly. When crushed and mixed with spices, the taste was nearly undetectable, and the early signs of the poisoning only appeared as though the person were suffering a bad case of indigestion. Then, however, came the vomiting, high fever, and finally the seizures which ultimately caused death.

Mai smiled and moved forwards through her garden, her fingertips brushing against the petals of the deadly Larkspur, a beautiful purple-blue flower which resembled an orchid. When tea infused with Larkspur petals was brewed and ingested, the affected person would suffer disorientation, muscle tremors, extreme weakness, and finally, entire respiratory collapse. This was one of the poisons that Azula preferred- the person on the receiving end would know immediately that he or she was dying, and in the final moments, Azula would be the one on their mind.

She continued through the garden, passing Foxglove, Wolf's Bane, Hemlock, and Moonseed. She avoided touching the Stink Weed, a hallucinogen which released a pungent odor if the leaves were even brushed with a feather light stroke, and then rubbed the petals of the beautiful but deadly Azaleas. This was her place, her sanctuary of beautiful darkness; the physical manifestation of her own character.

"Mai!" Azula's voice filtered through the plants of her garden, and Mai sighed softly, cupping an Azalea between her hands for a brief moment before she emerged from the shadows to face her friend and Fire Lady. The girl had come alone today, and for that Mai was grateful. Ty Lee hated this place, hated knowing that things of such beauty could be used for such violent means. She said that her aura turned as dark and dingy as Mai's own when she entered the garden, and Mai did not want to see her bubbly, annoyingly cheerful, pink-clad friend's discomfiture.

"What do you want?" Mai asked in monotone, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Azula blankly. She was gratified to see the Fire Lady's shoulders jerk every so slightly in surprise at her quick and silent appearance, but she kept her face smooth and free of emotion.

Azula smirked slightly, and looked around her before scrunching her nose up in distaste. "I don't see why you don't keep this place in better condition. Honestly, it's an absolute disgrace. Your mother must hate it."

"She doesn't come here," Mai replied, shifting her weight to her other foot, sighing, and staring somewhere past Azula's shoulder.

Azula snorted in response. "I can see why," she replied with a wry laugh, and Mai shrugged her shoulders.

"What do you want?" she asked again, and Azula laughed again- a cruel, sharp sound.

"Testy today, aren't you?" Azula replied, and Mai merely shrugged again, keeping her face expressionless. She watched as Azula flipped her bangs back, and glanced around again. "I need some poison. And quickly," she finally said, her voice curt and crisp.

Mai nodded once, and turned to search for the plant she was looking for. "Yew, right?" she asked, pulling on a pair of gloves as she stood before the poisonous shrub. The bell shaped red berries were poisonous, but it was the foliage that was the most toxic. The needle shaped leaves would be steeped in tea, and death would then come suddenly and violently, without any warning signals. There would be no time for an antidote to be found, so death was guaranteed. As a result, Yew was Azula's most commonly used poison. It was the poison that had been used to kill Ozai.

"No. Not this time," Azula said just as Mai was about to clip some of the leaves from the bush, and Mai turned around with a raised brow. "I want something more… painful. A long, painful death that is just as difficult to watch as it is to experience. And I want it to be a poison that has no antidote."

Mai blinked, and then glanced around her. "Blood Tulip," she murmured softly to herself, crossing over to where a few rust colored flowers had sprung up from the earth between the Dark Nettle Moss and Blooming Ivy. Quickly and deftly, she pulled the plant from the ground, and then proceeded to separate the bulb from bloom. "Catch," she said, and tossed the flower over her shoulder. She sensed rather than saw Azula snatch it from the air, and from the sound of it, grind the bloom into the dirt with her pointed shoes.

Mai rolled her eyes and pulled a silk handkerchief out from the folds of her robe. With quick, efficient movements, she knotted the bulb in the cloth and then held it out for Azula to take. "Grind it into a powder, and then mix it in a drink. Preferably wine."

Azula rolled her eyes and tucked the bulb into her belt. "Couldn't I just have it mixed into the food?"

Mai paused a moment, considering. The bulb certainly had a taste to it- not quite distinct, and its odor was not unpleasant. If the unfortunate fool eating the meal had not had extensive exposure to some of the rarest forms of poison, he would probably simply mistake it as a spice. "Has your target been exposed to poisons before?" she asked, and Azula laughed heartily, as though she had been told a joke of some sort. Mai raised a brow, and Azula shook her head.

"No, no, of course not," she replied with another chuckle, and Mai's brow furrowed. Azula gave Mai a look, and the girl quickly rendered her face expressionless once again. Azula smirked slightly and then sighed. "My brother is divorced now, you know. Ozai may be dead, but I am still more than willing to honor the contract between our fathers," the Fire Lady said, her eyes glinting.

Mai swallowed hard, and fought against the urge to chuck the watering pail at her friend's head. "I'll keep that in mind," she managed to say in monotone, and Azula's smirk widened.

The Fire Lady began to turn away, but then she stopped herself, and stared back at Mai with slightly narrowed eyes. "This is painful to watch, isn't it?" she asked, tapping the spot where the bulb was concealed.

Mai thought about symptoms associated with Autumn Blood Tulip poisoning, and had to repress the urge to wince. Whoever was to care for the patient in his final hours would need to possess a strong stomach, a fierce will, and most of all, devotion. She highly doubted that anyone but a physician would be able to stand by and watch the poison take hold. "Excruciating," she replied, and Azula grinned before striding away from the garden.

Mai watched her friend go, a lump beginning to form in her throat. Suddenly her garden didn't seem nearly as peaceful, nearly as beautiful as it had moments before. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of it through Ty Lee's eyes- saw the beauty of the ferns, trees, berries, vines, moss and flowers, as being tainted and wilted by blood. She swallowed hard and shook her head, pulling off her gloves and letting them fall to the ground. The air felt oppressive there for a moment, and Mai let out a deep sigh, pressing a long white hand to her temple.

Finally, she took a deep breath, composed herself, and left the place of dark beauty behind her.

-------------------------

Katara sat on the couch, watching in amusement as Sokka bounced Nozomi up and down on his lap. The little girl was shrieking and giggling, her dark curls bouncing every which way, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes sparkling. Sokka was signing a catchy little tune under his breath, one that Katara remembered her father singing when she was young.

The song came to an end and Sokka stopped bouncing his knees before heaving out a sigh. "Again, again!" Nozomi exclaimed, and Sokka's face took on a positively tortured expression as he swung his pleading gaze to Katara. He had been at this for nearly a quarter of an hour already, and Katara knew that he was both tired and bored. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Uncle Sokka's tired, _Anana,_" she said, lifting her daughter from Sokka's lap and settling the little girl in her own. "You can play with him some more later."

"Mama!" the little girl whined, and Katara chuckled softly before kissing the child's forehead.

"Tell you what? You can play with Mama's jewelry instead. Doesn't that sound like fun?" she asked, and the child's face brightened and she nodded eagerly. Katara looked up at Kin, and the maid quickly crossed to Katara's side, lifted the girl from her lap, and brought the child over to the vanity.

Katara watched with a soft smile as Nozomi squealed and dug her hands into her lacquered box, began to pull on her gold bangles, and attempt to stuff Katara's hair ornaments into her soft, silky curls. Beside her, Sokka chuckled.

"How old is she now?" he asked, and Katara's smile widened.

"We think she's nearly two, supposing she was around a year when we adopted her. Twenty one, twenty two months most likely." Katara paused, and watched as Jia and Lian giggled and played with her daughter on the floor. "She's gotten so big," she murmured softly, and Sokka smiled.

"Almost ten months," he mumbled under his breath, and Katara turned to look at him. "Since you decided to be impulsive and keep the little imp," he explained with a slight smile, and Katara laughed a little.

"Best decision I ever made," she said in response, and Sokka grinned. Katara smiled, and then nudged Sokka's shoulder. "And what about you? Aren't you happy to be a daddy? Suki must have had the baby a couple of weeks ago."

Sokka nodded, and then sighed harshly. "I wish I could have been there," he murmured, scrubbing a hand over his face. "She must have been so scared, being all alone…"

"I doubt she was alone, Sokka. Gran-Gran would have known that she was going into labor even before she did. And I doubt she would have left Suki's side for even a minute. That was her great-grandchild being born. She probably held it before Suki even got a chance look at it," Katara replied dryly, and Sokka chuckled. "Besides, you wouldn't have been much good anyways. If they would have let you in the birthing hut, you would have fainted."

Sokka winced, and then grinned a little. "I guess you have a point there," he replied, and Katara's mouth twitched into a small smile. The siblings then fell into a comfortable silence as they watched Nozomi play.

"Fifteen months ago…I never thought I would be a father today," Sokka whispered hoarsely after a time, and Katara sighed and closed her eyes. "If someone would have told me that I was going to fight beside the avatar, marry a warrior from the Earth Kingdom, and would wind up sitting with my little sister and her kid in the Fire Nation… I would have thought they'd been chewing too much Kafa weed."

Katara would have laughed, but her throat had suddenly gotten too thick for her to even consider speaking. Instead, she leaned against her brother and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Sometimes…" Sokka began softly, and then his voice trailed off. He cleared his throat, and then continued. "Sometimes I wish we could go back. That I never would have gotten you so angry in our canoe, that we never would have found Aang. That we'd continue to live just the way were back then. I miss those days," he breathed after a while, and Katara swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I don't." she whispered, and Sokka turned to face her, incredulous. "I used to," she continued, her gaze suddenly gone out the window. "But not anymore." She paused again, trying to collect her thoughts. "Look back at those days, Sokka. Look back at them long and hard. We had nothing- no experience, no training, not even any real beliefs. Our village was destroyed, out men gone. We worked hard, and we worked for nothing.

"And then Aang came into our lives, and he brought us hope and purpose. We had seven months with him. Just seven short months. And he changed everything. Look at us, Sokka. You are such a strong, brave man now. You're not the little boy with the boomerang and the war paint anymore. You're a warrior, and a father. You've changed for the better.

"My best memories come from those seven months. I wouldn't change any one of them for the world," she finally finished, and Sokka stared at her for a few long, hard moments.

"Even the ones about Zuko?" he asked softly after a time, and Katara closed her eyes, let out a deep, shuddering sigh, and nodded. "But why?" he demanded. "Why, after knowing what he was going to do to you, would you honestly go back and repeat those mistakes? Why, Katara?"

Katara licked her lips, and took in a deep breath. "Because I've never been happier than those few months that I was with him."

Sokka shook his head back and forth quickly, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Katara, that's…that's…"

"You don't understand," Katara said softly, and then her mouth worked silently as she searched for words. "I was always the one who was taking care of everyone. I mended socks, did the laundry, cooked, cleaned, listened to and carried everyone's problems on my shoulders… it was exhausting. When I was tired and sore, and only wanted to crawl in a hole and hide from the world, I didn't. I pretended I was strong. But with Zuko… I didn't have to pretend. I didn't need to be strong. He took care of me. He loved me. He gave me such utter loyalty and devotion…"

"Loyalty," Sokka scoffed, and Katara shook her head.

"What he did was wrong, Sokka. And I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for that, but… it was his loyalty to me that made him do it. It was his love for me. He loved me selfishly, yes, but it was still love. I've never felt safer or happier than I did when I was in his arms. Somehow, I always instinctively knew that he would put me first, that he would protect me.

"And those two nights we shared…" Katara trailed off and bit her lip. "They were the most wonderful nights I've ever known. He was completely selfless, Sokka. Sometimes, I…well, I knew that he wanted it differently, but he always controlled himself, did everything in his power to make me happy. It didn't matter what pleased him, only what pleased me. And it was just…" she trailed off and let out a breath so deep that her shoulders hunched forward as she did so.

"And he's been such a good father. He's treated Nimi like she was his own biological daughter. He's loved her and cared for her, and put her first. You should see him with her, Sokka. It's like he's a different man. A better man. And she adores him."

Sokka's hands were suddenly cupping Katara's face, brushing away tears she hadn't even known she'd been crying. "I didn't realize how…" he whispered, and Katara closed her eyes again, unable to meet his piercing gaze. It touched something deep inside her heart, brought light to what she'd been trying to deny.

She loved Zuko. Honest to Spirits, deeply and truly loved him. He'd shattered her trust, broken her heart, and destroyed her family, but she still could sense the goodness in him, his desire to do right. She knew how much he still cared for her, knew he would willingly sacrifice his life and his happiness for her and their daughter if need be. He made mistakes, he made bad choices, but that was what Zuko had always done. He made all the wrong decisions for all the right reasons. And it was because she recognized that; because she still saw the boy she had loved in the man that she knew now, that her bruised and battered heart was still capable of loving him so fiercely.

"I understand," Sokka said thickly, and then he leaned forward and gently brushed her forehead with a kiss.

"I'm sorry," Katara whispered brokenly before she reached forward and clutched her brother to her, buried her head in his chest and wept.

Sokka stroked her hair as her chest heaved and her tears stained his tunic, and gradually, Katara felt her body begin to calm, her heart begin to cease its frantic pounding. "Don't be," Sokka whispered quietly, wrapping his arms fully around her and squeezing her tightly.

-----------------------------

"So…" Ty Lee said from her perch on Mai's vanity table, and the dark robed girl rolled her eyes.

"What? You're actually going to give me a chance to talk now?" Mai replied dryly, removing her senbon from her hair and allowing the glistening dark strands to fall down her back. Ty Lee watched with something akin to wonder and envy, and she bit her lip.

"Well, duh!" she exclaimed brightly, hopping from the vanity and sweeping up Mai's brush before the girl's long, pale fingers could close over the handle. "I've been talking for the past hour! You have to get a chance every now and again," she added with a wink and a grin. Her friend sighed and rested her chin in a cupped hand.

"If you say so," the girl replied evenly, and then let out a slight yawn before attempting to pluck her brush from Ty Lee's hands. The acrobat jumped away, raising it high above her head.

"Oh please, Mai! Pretty please can I brush your hair? It's so pretty! Please, please, please?" she begged, thrusting her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. When her friend rolled her eyes and flipped the rest of her hair over her slim, pale shoulders in agreement, Ty Lee let out a delighted shriek before dancing over and running the bristles through the soft, dark, silky expanse of hair.

"You're such a child," Mai muttered under her breath, and Ty Lee laughed.

"So what?" she replied with a cheeky grin. "But enough about me. I heard Azula visited you today. What did she want?" she asked, and her smile dimmed as she watched Mai's shoulders hunch slightly.

It was difficult to see past the façade that the girl put up, and those who didn't know her found her impossible to read. She had often been described as being cold, impassive, aloof, and even emotionless. But Ty Lee knew better. You just had to know her well, was all. Mai's facial expressions were never obvious- she kept her features composed and her body language under strict control. But Ty Lee had been raised with this girl- she knew every movement that Mai made, and every emotion behind that movement. Where others saw a cold, impassive, and sometimes cruel young woman, Ty Lee saw a girl who was desperately trying to hide herself from the world.

"Poison," Mai replied softly, her voice a shade darker than usual. Her aura went from a smoke gray to an inky black and Ty Lee winced in response.

"Did she tell you who for?" she asked, biting her lip as she continued to run the brush through Mai's black hair. Her friend shrugged in response, and Ty Lee could see the effort it took for her to keep her composure.

"She wanted it to be painful. Very painful…and incurable."

"Ouch," Ty Lee replied, and Mai nodded once. "Who ever made her mad enough for her to want something like that for them?" she asked, setting down Mai's brush and moving to braid the girl's hair. Mai met her gaze in the mirror and raised a brow, and Ty Lee blushed and giggled a little. "Oh, that's right. It's Azula. _Anyone_ could have made her that mad."

Ty Lee watched as her friend's lips quirk upwards and her shoulders shake a fraction as though she were holding in a laugh. "I think she wants to make an example out of him, whoever he is," Mai said a few heartbeats later, and Ty Lee frowned. "She wanted it to be just as painful to watch as it is to experience," the tall, pale girl clarified, and Ty Lee nodded in understanding.

"Han Yu?" she asked, and Mai dipped her head slightly in response.

"I have a feeling. The symptoms of Blood Tulip poisoning resemble cholera a little, so the majority of people will assume that he died of natural causes. His death certificate might even say he died from a disease. But there will be people who recognize them for what they are- and they will know never to cross her."

Ty Lee shivered a little at the thought of her friend's cruelty, and she bit her lip hard before forcing a smile to her face and tying Mai's braid off at the bottom. "There you go. All done!" she exclaimed brightly, and Mai rolled her eyes before standing, stretching languidly, and then heading over to her bed.

"I'm going to sleep now. I'll see you in the afternoon," she said over her shoulder, and Ty Lee widened her grin a fraction before waving and bouncing out the door.

"Night!" she exclaimed cheerily, and then turned and headed towards her home. She kept her smile pasted on as she walked through the halls of Mai's manor, and gave a wink to the guard who held the curtain to her palanquin open. But once she was ensconced in the fabric, she let the smile drop from her face as she drew her knees to her chest.

Killing was wrong- even killing an awful man like Han Yu. She had spilt her fair share of blood, and she still had nightmares about the faces of the men and women she'd killed. Why anyone would want to kill for sport, she had no idea. It was a concept that she could not wrap her mind around. And not only did one of her best friends kill out of necessity- she killed for pleasure as well. Ty Lee shuddered and squeezed her eyes closed before the tears had a chance to fall.

She wondered how Mai could sleep at night, knowing it was the poison from her garden that would end a man's life in such a terrible way. She wondered how Azula could take so much pleasure from another person's pain. And most of all, she wondered how much longer she would be able to keep her sanity while surrounded by so much evil and death.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey everybody! Sorry for the long wait and shorter chapter again. College. You know how it goes. Thanks for reading, and please leave me a review! Thanks!


	17. Chapter 16

"You sent for me?" Sokka bit out, and Zuko glanced up from the papers that littered his massive desk to meet the Water Tribe man's stormy gaze. The chieftain's arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw locked, his stance strong. For the briefest of moments, Zuko's mind flashed back to the time when this same man had rushed at him with a boomerang; a little boy playing dress up with a child's weapon and his father's war paint. Zuko blinked and the image disappeared.

A part of him wanted to comment on how different Sokka was now from the boy he'd been almost two years before. He wanted to look back on that first meeting and laugh, wanted to tell Sokka just how much of a true warrior he'd become. One look into the man's furious gaze, however, let him know that was not an option. The words died on his lips, and left a bitter taste on his tongue. "A letter came for you," Zuko said instead, handing Sokka a rolled piece of thick, crude parchment.

"Did you read it already? Since you have no sense of right or wrong, I wouldn't put it past you," the man spat, his eyes hard and his mouth set in a cruel sneer. Zuko repressed the urge to wince.

"I didn't. If you don't believe me, check the seal. It's still intact." That had been a feat in and of itself, with Azula insisting on every missive being intercepted and read. It had taken quite a lot of effort and bribery to get this particular letter through and delivered to his desk unscathed. Zuko watched as Sokka examined the wax before clearing his throat gruffly, the best apology he could offer. "Open it," his said as he watched Sokka finger the seal.

The man glared at him. "I'm not going to read it where you can watch me," he muttered, and Zuko let out a sigh.

"I won't be watching you, Sokka. I have more important things to do," he said, gesturing to the never ending mass of paperwork. _Like running a kingdom that's hell bent on conquering, but barely functional within its own borders. Like trying to combat this damned drought and keep my people from starving. Like juggling keeping Azula happy, the Fire Sages satisfied, and your sister safe._

Sokka snorted, but he nevertheless broke the seal with his thumb and unrolled the missive. While the chieftain was reading, there was no sound in the room save for the scratching of Zuko's quill upon parchment, the shuffling of papers, and the clerk's nervous steps. As Zuko wrote, he kept one eye on Sokka, attempting to decipher who the letter was from and what the subject matter was about by his reactions. By the softening of his eyes and the sudden tender quirk of his lips, Zuko assumed that it was from Suki. After a quick calculation in his head, he decided that it must be news about the birth of Sokka's child. Not wanting to intrude further, Zuko dropped his gaze and focused all his attention on his work.

The sound of Sokka rolling the letter back up alerted Zuko that the man's few moments of privacy had ended. He set aside his quill and glanced up at the man, and was somewhat surprised to see the sheen of tears in the hardened man's blue eyes. "Is everything alright?" he asked before he could stop himself, and was surprised when Sokka didn't immediately snap at him.

Instead, the Chieftain cleared his throat and nodded. "I have a son," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "She named him Hakoda." Zuko smiled a little, and nodded in response.

"After your father. It's a good name," he said and then paused. "Congratulations."

Zuko watched as Sokka's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and sensed when the man's demeanor frosted over. He couldn't help but to imagine what the delivery of this news what had been like if fate was kind- he would have offered Sokka a drink, and they would have laughed together as they toasted to the man's newborn son. Uncle would have been there too, and Aang, and even Toph would have forced her way into a traditionally male celebration to take part in the booze. He felt his throat tighten and he swallowed convulsively.

"Why am I still in here?" Sokka demanded, his face once again set into hard lines, his eyes blue chips of ice once more. "You gave me the damn letter. Do I have your permission to leave?" His tone was mocking, but Zuko couldn't find it in himself to be angry at the man before him.

Zuko licked his lips, and then went through a stack of papers before pulling out a document. "Sign this," he said, holding it out for Sokka to take. The latter man eyed it suspiciously before snatching it out of Zuko's hand and scanning it quickly.

"I can't read it," he said, throwing it back down on the desk.

"It's in the traditional script of the Fire Nation," Zuko replied, picking it up and holding it out to Sokka again. "In effect, it is a promise that you will not further align yourself to either the Earth Kingdom or the Northern Water Tribe. And it is an agreement that if you break this promise, Katara's life is forfeit."

"How do I know that's what it says? For all I know, I could be signing my own execution papers!"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle drafted them. His signature is right above where you're supposed to sign. You may not trust me, but you have every reason to trust him. He thinks of you as a part of his family." He further extended his arm, and then held out his quill for Sokka to take. "Once you sign this, you can go home to Suki and your baby. Isn't that what you want?"

"I don't want to leave my sister here alone," Sokka replied, but Zuko could see the man's resolve wavering.

"You've already talked to Katara about this, haven't you?" he asked astutely, and watched as Sokka nodded, his face suddenly pinching together as though he were in pain. "What did she say?" he prompted. Sokka was silent for a long time, staring at the document in Zuko's outstretched hand, his internal battle playing out across his features.

Whatever Katara had said must have had a profound effect on Sokka, because Zuko knew that under normal circumstances the warrior would have ripped the parchment to shreds and thrown the pieces in his face. Zuko silently blessed Katara for the wisdom that she innately possessed, and offered a quick prayer of thanks to the spirits for enabling her to retain her strength of character given her circumstances.

Finally, instead of responding, Sokka took the document and, after a moment's hesitation, signed his name, sealing his freedom and his sister's fate.

"When do I leave?" he asked a heartbeat later, his voice thick and gruff. His face was pained, and Zuko noted that the man had clenched his fists at his side to keep them from shaking.

"There is a ship leaving tonight," Zuko replied, and felt his heart clench in sympathy when Sokka's face went stricken. "But there is another leaving in two month's time," he added softly, offering Sokka an extension of what was quite possibly the last visit he would ever pay his little sister.

Sokka blinked, and then shook his head back and forth quickly. "I've been away from home for nearly two months," he murmured. "I'd like to get back before my son starts teething," he added, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.

"I understand," Zuko said, and he did. The thought of leaving Nozomi for five months scared the hell out of him, and the pain of the separation must have been that much worse for Sokka. He had never seen his child, after all, and those first few months were so critical for an infant's development. "And so will Katara," he added, and Sokka nodded.

"I know she will. If she goes two hours without seeing Nimi she starts getting nervous," he replied with a small chuckle, and Zuko joined in the man's laughter.

"She's a very devoted mother," Zuko agreed with a slight smile. Surprisingly enough, Sokka returned it, tight and strained though it was.

"That she is," Sokka agreed, and then the smile fell from his face, and he met Zuko's gaze with dark and serious eyes. "She's fragile, Zuko," he said after a few heartbeats, and Zuko started at the use of his name. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I'm entrusting her to you. Don't break her again. I don't think she could survive it."

"I know," Zuko said softly, "And I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to make sure she stays safe," he promised, and Sokka winced a little.

"Something tells me that's what got us into this whole mess in the first place," he muttered, and Zuko hung his head, allowing the shame and self loathing to fill him. "But ironically enough, that's why I can leave her behind. If you could betray Aang's cause and hand the free world over to Ozai on a silver platter in order to keep Katara alive, well… you'd do anything for her."

Zuko blinked, and then swallowed, his throat thick. "Thank you," he whispered, and Sokka shook his head slightly.

"That wasn't a compliment. And it doesn't excuse what you did, you know," Sokka added, his voice harsher, angrier than it had been before. "You're still a bastard."

"I know," Zuko replied, and Sokka's eyes narrowed before he let out a harsh sigh and rubbed at his forehead with calloused palms.

"I have to go say goodbye to my sister. Do I have your permission to leave?" he demanded, and Zuko swallowed hard again before nodding curtly. He watched as Sokka took in a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and walking towards the door.

"Wait!" Zuko called before he could stop himself, and Sokka paused but did not turn around. "Give Suki my love, and tell her… tell her that I'm sorry," he said, and Sokka nodded his head curtly in response. "Oh, and more thing. I figured it might have slipped Bumi's mind, you know, with him being so… He's adopted Appa and Momo. They're safe."

At this, Sokka did turn to face him, incredulous. "How do you…"

"I'm the Fire Lord," Zuko replied with a bitter twist to his lips. "I have my ways." Sokka merely nodded in response, and Zuko licked his lips before letting out a shuddering sigh. "I know you hate me, Sokka, but there was a time that we were friends. Back then everything was so…" he paused, and then shook his head quickly, deciding that it was better not to remember. "I know I am below your forgiveness, but please accept my apology. I am sorry for ruining everything."

Sokka was silent for a long time, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking with emotion. "I will never, ever forgive you for what you did. Because of you, my father, Toph, Aang, Haru, Bato, and so many more are dead. No amount of apologies will ever be able to fix that."

Zuko hung his head and nodded slowly. He had anticipated this; had known that even an apology was worth nothing from the likes of him.

"But you did it for my sister. As misguided, stupid, wrong, and as gigantic of an ass that you are… I can't hate you."

At this, Zuko lifted his head and met Sokka's eyes, shock filling his being. "But when you got here, you said…"

"That was before I talked to Katara. She's an amazing woman, Zuko, if after all you've done to her she can still…" he trailed off and shook his head. "I'd make you promise me that you'd treat her like a queen, but I already know you will. Just… take good care of her."

"I will."

Sokka hovered there for a few moments more, as though he wanted to say something else but was not quite sure how to put it into words. Zuko understood the feeling. This was most likely the last time that the two men would ever see each other, and they had spent such an important part of their lives together. Were it not for pride and anger and bad choices, a proper farewell might have been said. They might have reminisced about the war, made empty promises to visit each other one day, talked about how different it was now that they were married with children.

No fond goodbyes could have been exchanged, not after all that had happened. And so they parted instead with a mutual love for the same woman, a love that bridged the gap between them and enabled them to have just one small moment of camaraderie. Sokka cleared his throat and turned before walking out of Zuko's office, and his life, forever.

Zuko took a deep breath after the door had closed behind the man and rested his head on his desk, suddenly exhausted. More than anything, he wanted to closet himself in his room and sleep so deeply that even the nightmares wouldn't be able to reach him, but he knew that could never happen.

"Uh-oh. Someone looks like he needs some of Uncle's tea." Zuko's lips quirked a little at his uncle's playful voice, and he lifted his head to find the heavyset man balancing Nozomi in one arm and a tray of tea and pastries in the other.

"Something a little stronger than tea," Zuko replied, his mind going to his hidden cache of alcohol in his wardrobe. The thought of the cool, burning liquid sliding down his throat made his mouth dry and his hands shake a little. He made a mental note to stock pile some in one of the drawers of his desk.

"That's a nasty habit," Iroh replied, depositing Nozomi on her father's lap and placing the tray of tea on top of Zuko's papers. "Besides, there's nothing that a nice, steaming cup of jasmine tea can't fix. Does sake have such fragrance? Such delicacy of flavor? I don't think so."

Zuko chuckled a little and lightly bounced his knees up and down, making Nozomi grin and squeal in delight. "I've learned not to argue with you," he told Iroh over his daughter's dark head, and the man grinned.

"Smart man," the aging man replied as he poured Zuko a cup of tea and handed it out to him. "Take a pastry too. You need to eat."

"I'd prefer sushi," Zuko replied, but he took both the cup and the pastry anyways. _And Sake. Lots and lots of sake._

"Take what you get," Iroh said, and Zuko chuckled. "I saw Sokka walking out on my way in. I suppose he signed the treaty?" he asked, and Zuko nodded slowly, the smile disappearing from his face. It reappeared momentarily when Nozomi grabbed his hands and ordered him to bounce her harder, before it melted away again.

"Yes. He's leaving tonight. I offered to let him stay for another two months, but he wanted to get back to Suki," he replied, and Iroh nodded.

"A good choice on his part," he said, and Zuko made a noise of agreement. "Oh, here's an interesting bit of news for you," Iroh said, and Zuko frowned a little. "It appears that Azula has struck again."

"Who'd she poison this time? Not another servant. The last one was ridiculous. The girl forgot to pit her cherries, so Azula gives her a tea that makes her vomit through half the night. Honestly," he grumbled, and Iroh nodded.

"Not a servant this time. Han Yu."

Zuko stopped bouncing Nozomi and his mouth dropped. "Han Yu?" he demanded, and his uncle nodded again. "But if Han Yu is dead, she'll never be able to inherit the throne on her own. I'll always be here. If I die, she can't rule either. What game is she playing now?"

"Who knows, nephew. But personally, I'm not going to be too entirely upset when the man dies. In my opinion, this world is a better place without him," he said darkly, and Zuko nodded before pausing and widening his eyes.

"When he dies? As in, he's not dead yet?"

"He's in a great deal of pain at the present moment, but rumor has it that it was poison and not a virus. The doctors are reluctant to confirm, of course, but the entire court understands what is going on. He will be dead by this time tomorrow." Iroh paused, and looked down at where Nozomi was staring up at him with wide eyes. "Perhaps we should change the subject," he said, and Zuko looked down at his daughter before grimacing and nodding.

"Do you want a pastry?" he asked, shifting Nozomi on his lap so that he could see her face as he picked up a moon peach puff- her favorite. But the little girl was shaking her head back and forth, crinkling her nose in distaste.

"My not hungwy," she replied, and Zuko shrugged before popping it into his own mouth and winking at her playfully. Nozomi narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Mine," she muttered, and Zuko shook his head.

"Well, you said you weren't hungry. Are you sure you don't want one? I promise not to eat it this time," he said, and crossed his heart with his pinkie finger.

"My not hungwy, Dada," the little girl said again, her little voice more emphatic this time. Iroh laughed deeply, and Zuko chuckled and kissed her forehead. When he drew back, he frowned.

"Uncle, does she feel a little warm to you?" he asked, resting his hand on Nozomi's forehead, and clucking his tongue at her when she pouted and tried to squirm away.

Iroh crossed over to stand beside Zuko and felt the little girl's forehead, cheeks, and neck. "Katara said the same thing to me, but I don't think it's anything to worry about. Children her age often get low grade fevers. But maybe we should have the physician come look at her, just to make sure. We don't want to take any chances."

Zuko nodded in agreement. "Okay, Princess. Uncle is going to take you back to the nursery, okay? Then the doctor is going to come visit you and give you a little treat," he said, and Nozomi whimpered and wrapped her arms tightly around Zuko's neck.

"No, Dada! My want to stay with you!" she exclaimed, and Zuko looked up at Iroh who was wearing one of his fondest, sappiest smiles. Zuko repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the emotional lug that was his uncle.

"Dada has work to do. I'll come tuck you in tonight, okay? I'll even read you a story," Zuko said, and Nozomi sniffled.

"Pwomise?" she said, and Zuko grinned before kissed her forehead, then both her cheeks, and tweaking her little button nose.

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Zuko exclaimed, and Nozomi giggled.

"You silly, Dada," she laughed, and Zuko grinned before kissing the top of her head and passing her over to Iroh.

"I know, I know. I love you, Princess."

"My love you too!" the little girl exclaimed before wrapped her arms around Iroh's neck and resting her head on the heavy man's padded shoulder.

Zuko watched her go with a fond smile on his lips, and then turned back to his paperwork with a barely suppressed groan. But even as he read and signed, and passed proposals into laws, his mind rested on Azula and Han Yu.

---------------------------

Needle dipped through linen, and sent a bright slash of color onto the white fabric. Down it went again, disappearing momentarily before resurfacing and dipping once more, bringing the empty canvas to life with the color of one small thread. Up and down, up and down, a constant study of movement and change. Where there had once been nothing, small pink petals appeared. A change of thread, a repeat of motions, and the cherry blossoms had suddenly found their home on a branch.

It was a soothing practice, this constant repetitive movement, and a rewarding one. She was able to give a piece of cloth devoid of life beauty and meaning; turn the artless into art. Another change of thread, another quick movement of the hand, and a clear blue sky began to take shape.

"Katara," Sokka greeted her, and his voice startled her enough so that she pricked her finger on the needle. It took many stitches of that needle to bring life, but only a half of a second for it to draw blood. Katara set her embroidery aside and wrapped her finger in a handkerchief to stem the small trickle of blood.

"Sokka," she replied, glancing up at her brother's face. It was ashen, his blue eyes dark and troubled. He looked torn and confused, and more than a little lost as he stood there before her, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "You're going home," she said softly as the reason for his torment dawn on her, and she watched as his face crumpled.

"I'm sorry! I wish I could stay, but Suki…" he babbled, and Katara rose from window seat in a smooth, graceful motion and rested her hand on the man's arm.

"It's okay, Sokka. I understand," she murmured, even as her eyes traitorously filled. She bit her bottom lip hard to disguise its trembling and to keep the tears at bay. She did understand with all her heart, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Sokka had always been there, every day of her life. Sometimes it drove her crazy, the fact that she couldn't so much as sneeze without him noticing. But then again, every time she'd fallen he'd been there to help her to her feet. Every time she had needed a hug, his arms had been open for her.

And now… now he was going away, and she would most likely never see him again. It didn't seem fair- they'd only had fifteen years together. So short a time, really, in the grand scheme of things. Fifteen years of comfort, and frustration, and affection. Fifteen years of him constantly being in her hair, destroying her snow castles, of his utter stupidity, his overprotective nature, and his love. She knew she should have considered herself lucky to have had her brother by her side for as long as she did, but she wanted more. She wanted him to be with her for always and forever. She never wanted to say goodbye.

"Oh, Snow Bear," Sokka groaned, and then wrapped his arms around his sister. "It won't be for forever, you'll see. Zuko will let you come home one day. And if he doesn't, I swear I'll come back for you. We'll be together again. I promise."

Katara sniffled as she clung to her brother's shirt. _No, Sokka, no we won't. You know it just as well as I do. _The thought, however, never formed itself into words. It was too painful a truth to be uttered out loud. "I know," Katara lied instead, and Sokka's arms held her just a fraction tighter, as though he was acknowledging that this was, in fact, their goodbye.

He then stepped away and let her go, and Katara heard him sniffle a little, and averted her eyes when he wiped moisture out of his eyes. He cleared his throat, and took a rolled up piece of parchment from his belt. "Suki sent this… the top part is what she wrote to me; you're welcome to read it if you want. At the bottom though, she wrote something to you." Katara looked up at him, and Sokka gave her a watery half of a smile. "Don't worry. I didn't read it."

"I wouldn't have minded if you had," Katara replied quietly, taking the letter and moving to sit back down on plush window seat. Truly, she wouldn't have cared if he had, but still she was grateful that he had chosen to respect her privacy. She quickly skimmed over the part addressed to Sokka, skipping entire lines when they were too personal. Sokka had shown uncharacteristic concern for her privacy, and she would give him the same respect.

"Congratulations," she said softly when she read about the birth of her nephew, and when she smiled it trembled a little. "It's a good name. I'm sure he'll live up to its legacy," she added, her voice shaking a little with grief as she remembered their father.

"Thank you," Sokka replied hoarsely, no less affected by the memories than she.

Katara coughed a little, and then looked back down at the portion of the letter that was addressed to her.

_Katara, _

_I miss you so very much. You've become like a sister in so many ways…and finally we're sisters in law as well as at heart. But I am sure that Sokka's already told you all about that. . Gran-Gran misses you too. She pretends that she's tough as nails, but I've caught her clutching one of your old dolls to her chest several times. The entire South Pole grieves for you, and longs to have you with them again. _

_But please, do everything in your power not to miss this place too much. The Southern Water Tribe was your childhood home, and as such it will always have a place in your heart. But the Fire Nation is your home now. It is where your husband and your daughter are, and they are your family now. Not me, or Sokka, or Gran-Gran. Zuko and Nozomi are at the core of your family, and as such, your life is intertwined with theirs. Their home is your home. _

_I know what Zuko did was unforgivable. It was cruel, and stupid, and the effects it had on every person in this world are painful and profound. And I am sure for you, those effects are magnified. But remember this: he only did it because he loves you. It was selfish and foolish, but his motivations were pure and good. _

_When you begin to feel love for him again, don't ignore it or try to push the feeling aside. Embrace it. Let him know how you feel. He is in pain too, Katara; Aang was like a brother to him, and he thought of Toph as his little sister. And when two people are in pain, they need each other. The only way that you two will be able to heal completely is if you heal together. _

_I know it sounds impossible, that you will ever be able to forgive him and rely on him like you once did. But one day, you will. One day, you will have no other option but to cling to him. When you were married, you swore to be there for him in good times and in bad. Yes, these are the bad times. The worst times that you will probably ever go through. But you knew when you were married that your entire life would be one struggle, one heartache after another. That was the choice you made. And now you need to honor those vows. _

_Remember that day when I knew for sure that I was pregnant? When we were living in that awful tea shop, and I scared Sokka out of the room by talking about my monthly? Do you remember what I said to you then? There is no such thing as a fairy tale romance or a happily ever after. Love is about conquering pain and hardship; it's about a dedication to a choice that you made. It will never, ever be easy. But if you work hard enough, if you bleed enough, you'll find that you lived happily after all. You understood that at one point. Now you just need to remember, and to learn that truth again._

_The only reason why I write this to you is because I want to see you happy. And a life with a fortress around your heart is no life at all. It is a guaranteed path to misery. I love you, little sister, and I want the best for you. Please, try to take my advice. _

_All my love, _

_Suki_

By the time Katara finished reading the letter, she was sobbing so hard that her shoulders were quaking. Sokka had sat beside her and pulled her into his lap at some point, and once she had finished reading, Katara buried her head in his neck and allowed the letter to fall to the ground. Suki was right, she knew, and revealed several things to her that she was just beginning to understand.

"It's okay, Snow Bear, it's okay," Sokka murmured in her ear like a mantra, and Katara forced the tears to subside and wiped them away with the back of her hand. Even after she had finally calmed and stilled in her brother's embrace, he rubbed her back in soft, soothing circles, his forehead resting on the top of her head, his lips brushing against the crown of her hair every time he took a breath.

"When do you leave?" Katara asked softly after some time, and Sokka lifted his head and stared out the window. Darkness had just begun to fall, the Fire Nation sun disappearing behind a chain of volcanoes and sending its last brilliant streaks of fire to dance in the sky.

"Tonight..." he said, and then corrected himself. "Now." Katara took a deep shuddering breath.

There was so much she needed to say to him, so many feelings and emotions and desires stored in her heart that she wanted to tell him about. But she couldn't, because if she did, she knew that he would never get on his ship home.

"I guess you should be going then," she said instead, and Sokka nodded slowly, but made no move to leave her chambers.

"I'm not going to say goodbye," he said softly, his voice hard and gruff. It sounded like their father's voice. Katara inclined her head in question, and Sokka gently stroked her hair. "Goodbyes are too permanent."

_This is permanent,_ Katara thought, and then closed her eyes. "I'll write to you," she said, and Sokka nodded.

"Me too," he replied. Katara could feel his muscles tense, but still he did not move.

"Give Suki and Gran-Gran a hug for me. And give the baby a kiss." She paused for a moment, and then shuddered slightly. "Tell him about me. Tell him about everything that happened to us… Don't let him grow up without knowing our story."

"I won't," Sokka replied, his voice hoarse.

There was a knock at the door, and then Jee was standing there, looking between Sokka and Katara politely. "My apologies, My Lady, but the ship is ready to sail."

Katara took in a shuddering breath, and then hugged Sokka fiercely one last time before stepping away from him. "You need to go," she whispered, and Sokka nodded. His hands lingered at her elbows; his eyes frantically scanned her face as though he was attempting to memorize how she looked. "I'll see you again," she promised, and Sokka nodded his head.

"Soon," he said fiercely, and Katara managed to force a smile to her face. The promises were empty of course, empty lies. But somehow, they made their parting that much easier. He looked at her one last time, long and hard, before turning on his heel and hurrying out of the room, as though if he did not flee immediately, he would never be able to summon the strength to leave.

Katara watched him go, her eyes wide and wet. Jee gave her a sympathetic smile before closing the door behind him, and then Ryu was suddenly at her side, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. Katara stared at the closed door for a few moments more before she exhaled shakily and turning away. _Goodbye._

------------------------------

"My Lady! My Lady!" Kin's urgent whispers pulled Katara from her slumber, and she groaned a little before rolling over, curling into a small ball, and burying her head beneath her arms. She mumbled out a sleepy protest, and then her breathing began to even out again as she drifted back into sleep. "My Lady!" Kin exclaimed again, and this time Katara was able to recognize the edge of panic in the other woman's voice.

She sighed deeply, and then pushed herself up on one elbow before blearily rubbing her eyes. She had spent the greater part of the night crying, so now her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and her temples ached. More than anything, she just wanted to curl up underneath her blankets and sleep until the sun hung high in the sky. "What's the matter?" she asked softly, her voice thick and deep with sleep.

"Take these," Kin said, and thrust two small pills in Katara's hand, and then held out a glass of water. Katara frowned, and opened her mouth to ask what they were, but Kin was shaking her head. "Just take them now. Quickly."

Katara yawned a little, but nevertheless popped the pills into her mouth and then downed then with a sip from the glass that Kin had proffered. "Good. Now put this on. Quickly, my Lady, quickly!" Kin exclaimed, holding out Katara's night robe. Katara quirked a brow as she allowed her arms to be maneuvered through the sleeves, and she frowned when she saw Kin's hands shaking as they attempted to tie the knot at her waist.

"What's this all about?" she demanded, and something akin to fear curled in her gut as she watched Kin's lips tremble. And then terror crashed down. "Is it Sokka?" She demanded, her eyes suddenly wide, sleep gone from her mind. "Did something happen to his ship? Is he okay?"

Kin's hands were on her shoulders then, and she was shaking her head vehemently. "No, no, my Lady! Your brother is fine. Nothing happened to his ship. It's…" she paused, and Katara gripped the older woman's forearms tightly as she waited for the bomb to drop. "It's Nozomi, Lady. She's gravely ill," her maid finally managed to say, and for a moment, Katara's world tipped on its axis.

Suddenly she couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down; couldn't remember what had happened in her life prior to this moment. The only fact that she was aware of was that her daughter was sick and that the child needed her. She threw her covers off of her body and swung her legs over the side of her bed. And then she was running faster than she could ever remember, her hair whipping behind her, the distant sound of Ryu and Jee's armor clattering as they raced after. Nozomi's name reverberated through her skull with every beat of her heart, and she was praying, uttering wordless, soundless cries to Tui and La, even to Agni, for her daughter to be alright.

She barely registered the sorrow and pity in the eyes of the servant who opened the door to the nursery for her, as her gaze had settled solely on her daughter. Nozomi's face was bright red, her little mouth open and gasping for air. Her eyes were closed tightly, her hair matted to her face with sweat. And she was crying. They were not the loud, piercing cries of a healthy child; rather they were soft and mewling, laced with pain and exhaustion. Katara went still for a moment, her eyes widening, her brain suddenly unable to process the fact that this was her daughter, and she was dying.

Her mouth worked soundlessly, and then she forced herself to take in her surroundings, to find the physician. It was at that point that she registered that Zuko was hovering over her baby, looking like he was on the verge of tears. His hair was tangled and in disarray, his eyes bloodshot and underscored by deep purple bruises. He was naked save for his linen sleeping pants, which told Katara that he had rushed straight from his bed to see his child. Nozomi writhed in her crib, and Zuko's tortured gaze lifted to meet her own.

Katara's breath caught in her throat and she turned away, her eyes catching on Iroh's rotund frame. The man was still and quiet, his face grave as he wiped at her daughter's hot forehead with a damp cloth. He looker up and met Katara's horrified gaze, and she watched as the man's shoulders drooped and his eyes fill with sorrow. Sorrow for her and for Zuko, sorrow at the knowledge that they, like Iroh, were about to lose a child. "Katara," he murmured softly, and gestured her over.

Katara stared at the man and then looked over to the physician, who had removed his spectacles and was shaking his head sadly. He then looked up and met her gaze, and he gestured her to his side, much like Iroh had several moments before. "The Fire Lord told me that you are a gifted healer," he said quietly, and Katara nodded slowly, her mind attempting to make sense of the words. "Perhaps you can do for the Princess what I cannot," he added, and when Katara swallowed, it felt as though her mouth was filled with cotton.

More than anything, she wanted to break down into a full blown panic attack, wanted to cradle Nozomi to her chest and rock her until her fears subsided. But she could not. She was the child's mother, and so she needed to be strong. She needed to be strong to save Nozomi's life. And at that point, she remembered one crucial, heartrending fact. "The bending suppressants," she gasped. "I can't heal if I can't waterbend!" she exclaimed, the panic beginning to bubble over.

"Kin gave you the anti-suppressants," Zuko said, looking up from Nozomi's heated, pinched face to meet Katara's eyes again. "I had her double the dosage so that they would take effect quicker."

Katara took in a shaking breath and nodded before turning to the physician. "What are the symptoms?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice professional, desperately trying to stem her panic long enough to step into the role of healer.

If the physician noticed the tremor that laced her voice, he didn't comment. "Raging fever, stomach cramping, watery diarrhea that is more mucus than stool, violent vomiting, and…apparent kidney failure. She's beginning to have difficulty breathing as well," he said, and Katara swallowed hard.

"Water," she croaked, and suddenly Zuko was at her side, a pitcher of it in his hands. She didn't ask how he could have gotten it so quickly- she could see from his demeanor that he wanted, no, needed to do something to help their child, and he felt that assisting her was something.

The bent a stream of water out of the pitcher, and for the briefest of moments she relished the sense of wholeness that came along with being able to bend again. And then she had gloved her hands with the water, and as she placed her palms against her daughter's tiny chest, they glowed blue. She took a deep breath, and then immersed herself within her daughter's body, feeling the push and pull of the water that flowed within the child's blood. The blood was filled with something else, something that she had not studied enough to name although she knew it had it's origin in the kidneys. Something akin to acid. And whatever that substance was, it was causing an overload of acid in the child's system, which was causing her lungs to go into double time in their attempt to blow out waste.

At that, Katara almost breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that all the trouble stemmed from the child's kidneys, so all she would need to do was fix them. But as she sunk her awareness into the kidneys, she could find no starting point. It was as though the kidneys had been the major organ to respond to some catalyst- the same catalyst which must have ultimately caused the vomiting, diarrhea, and fever.

She let out a shaking sigh, and then delved deeper into her daughter's body, searching every organ, every artery for something that could have caused the disease. Yagoda had taught her that a disease always left its mark, that there was always an identifiable starting point and a subsequent path that it took. And yet… there was no starting point, no infection. Katara's breathing quickened, and she continued to search, feeling about every crevice within her daughter's small body. There was nothing. Nothing! And if there was no biological, natural starting point… That meant…

Katara lurched backwards, the water that had once gloved her hands spilling to the ground. She was shaking, her lips trembling, her legs feeling like they were about to give way. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, and the room was spinning, and suddenly the ground seemed very, very close. And then Zuko's arms were around her, holding her up, his entire body pressed flush against her back. She didn't mind the contact now. Rather she relished it. She relished his warmth and his scent and the comfort that his arms could bring.

"Katara?" he demanded, and she felt her body jostle a little. And then he had swung her up fully into his arms, holding her as though she were a child. And then there was something soft beneath her body and his arms were gone, but his hands were gently stroking hair back from her face. He was saying something, but she couldn't quite make it out. The healer in her knew what this was- it was shock, pure and simple. But somehow, she just couldn't quite shake herself of it.

"Katara! Katara, what's wrong?" he was demanding, his voice frantic. At the sound of his panic, she felt her own beginning to rise past the shock and to the forefront of her consciousness.

"Poison," she choked out through a clogged throat. "It has to be poison," she repeated, and her eyes were suddenly burning, her throat thick and tight. And then, the dam broke. "She's just a baby, Zuko! A baby!" she exclaimed, grabbing onto his arms so tightly that her nails dug into his flesh. "How could anyone hurt her? She's so little… she can't even defend herself! How could anyone… What kind of person…" And then she was shaking, hysterical, and Zuko's arms were around her again, warm and tight. She could feel him shaking too, his arms were trembling around her, and his heart was pounding against her ear.

"We can fix this," he was whispering harshly into her ear as his arms tightened like a vise around her. "Mai knows everything about poisons. She even has her own garden. She'll know what to do. She can fix this. Nimi will be fine. She'll be fine!" And then he lifted his head from hers, and he was shouting. "For the love of Agni, will someone get Mai?"

Katara squeezed her eyes closed and clung to Zuko's words. Mai would fix her. Mai would heal her daughter. She just had to.

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**A/N: **Don't kill me for the cliffie! I'm sorry! But the full chapter was getting somewhere north of 10,000 words, and it was only a third of the way finished, so I needed to cut it in half. And this was the only place that allowed a cut off like that. The next chapter should be posted sometime within the next two weeks- we're finally getting to the climax of the story, and I'm very motivated to finish it. Thank you so much for reading, and as always, reviews are very much welcomed.


	18. Chapter 17

Mai sat on the rail of her balcony, her long hair unbound for once, the moonlight making her pale skin that much paler. She should have retired hours ago, yet she couldn't sleep. Something within her refused to tire, to turn in for the night. So she had decided to sit out in the balmy night air, to savor these few hours of quiet solitude. And for perhaps the first time in her life, she stared up at the moon and marveled at its beauty.

She had been raised to view the sun as the sole symbol of life, of beauty, as the representation of truth and conquest. She had been raised to believe that everything besides the sun was inferior- that the earth, the wind, the moon and the sea were the lesser aspects of nature. But now, sitting here, bathed by the soft, diffused light of the moon, she wondered if that were true at all. It seemed that everything had equal importance in its own right. Without the wind, there would be no refreshing breeze. Without the earth or water, no means of survival. The sun was bright and hot in its intensity, but did that mean that the moon was any less great for shining with a quieter, gentler resolve? Were the people of Fire really greater than those of the other nations?

Mai sighed, and listlessly traces the etched patterns on the rail with her fingertips. And she wondered, with a pang in her heart, when Zuko had come to the realization that the answers to these questions were no. Was it when he had fled their ship to join the avatar? Or was it the first time he gazed into the water bender's eyes and saw something there, something that drew him in and made him realize that she and her people were his equal?

At that thought, Mai lifted a shaking hand and pressed it to her aching chest. She wished she could take these feelings and cast them aside; that she was as cold and unfeeling as the front she put up. But she could not, and she was not. Below her marble exterior lay a heart that beat and pulsed with life, with love, with hopes and dreams. Although she kept it well hidden, it was there- tender and quiet, and filled with Agni damned, impossible hope. And that battered, bruised, and foolish heart still clung to Zuko, still longed for him. And yet, at the same time, it yearned for his happiness. And so she found herself in a conundrum. The man she loved would only be happy while in the arms of another woman, and his happiness made her glad. But she also cursed the other woman, hated her with all her being because that woman had what she wanted most in the world. So in equal measure, she both wanted and resented his happiness.

Mai let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes against the moon, relishing in the darkness that she found behind her closed lids. It was no use to think of Zuko; no use to think of the unsigned marriage contract that rested in her father's office. She would not have a marriage like her mother's- she refused to be in a union where either she or her partner was incapable of love. And Zuko would be, so long as Katara was near.

"Lady Mai!" One of her servants was at her feet, her head bowed, her face obscured in shadow. Mai did not know her name- she never bothered herself to learn anything about the names or lives of the people who lived for serving her. They were a constant, invisible presence. "The Fire Lord has sent for you. He says that is urgent, my Lady," the woman murmured in hushed tones, and Mai frowned.

"How urgent?" she replied, rising to her feet and wrapping her night robe tightly around her thin, tall frame. She walked from the balcony back into her suite, heading for her vanity so that she could pin up her hair.

"The nursemaid that came to the door was quite hysterical. She said that it was a matter of life or death."

At this, Mai's heart sped up, and the hairpin that she had picked up clattered back to the surface of her vanity. Zuko's name raced through her mind and sent a stab of pain through her heart. She felt the panic begin to rise, but she summoned her will and forced it down, and when she spoke, she managed to keep her voice smooth and even. "Is the Fire Lord ill?"

The servant was shaking her head, and Mai felt such a powerful surge of relief fill her that she nearly sank to her knees. "No, no, my Lady. But the princess…" the woman trailed off, and Mai's eyes narrowed as she stared hard at the woman. "The nursemaid said that the princess was dying. The Fire Lord needs you, my Lady. He has commanded for you to go to him."

Mai stared at the servant for a long moment and then swallowed hard. She struggled to keep her face composed, to maintain her granite façade, and she found that it took nearly all her effort to do so. She had seen Zuko with his daughter- she knew how much the child meant to him; how much he loved her. If the princess were to die, Mai knew a part of Zuko would die with her. The one bright spot in his life would be removed. She could not, would not let that happen.

She forced herself to remember decorum as she hastened from her room, and resisted the urge to sprint down the corridors until she reached the royal nursery. When she finally arrived, she forced herself to compose her features into their usual stoic mask, and she curled her hands into tight fists to disguise their trembling. When she entered the room, however, she nearly dropped the mask once again.

The water tribe girl- Katara, she reminded herself- was cradling the mewling princess in her arms, obviously attempting to put on a brave face although her red rimmed, swollen eyes betrayed her. Zuko's arm was wrapped tightly around the woman's shoulders although his anxious gaze remained on his child. Something in Mai's heart broke a little at the sight of the pair together, no matter how dire the circumstances. She swallowed bile and forced herself to ignore the pain as she stepped forwards to the Fire Lord, his mistress, and their child.

Zuko heard her approach, and his gaze snapped up and locked on her face. Once he recognized her, Mai saw something akin to relief pass across his features, and something like trust. Only a heartbeat later, Katara's swollen eyes swung from Zuko's child to her form, and Mai watched as the girl's shoulder's sagged with relief.

"Oh, thank La you're here," the girl breathed out, and Mai twitched a little when she saw Zuko's long, pale hand squeeze the girl's shoulders in comfort. She wanted to hate the girl who had stolen Zuko's heart; wanted to see her suffer. But the girl's eyes were so big and blue, and so filled with a hope and sincerity that Mai hadn't seen in anyone's face for very long time. So she couldn't. There was the resentment, yes, but hatred could not last in the face of this girl's genuine and soft nature.

"What are the child's ailments?" she asked, and when she spoke her voice was it's usual monotone, unaffected by the feelings that swelled and churned within her.

Katara looked down at the little girl, and then back up at Mai, the shine of tears entering her eyes. A part of Mai wanted to yell at the girl, to tell her to learn how to be tough, to tell her that she needed a thicker skin. But then she looked at Zuko and saw just how much effort it was taking for him to hold himself together, and that part of her quieted.

The girl was taking in a deep breath, stroking the child's damp, matted curls as though to gather her strength. "Fever, vomiting, diarrhea… Her kidneys are failing. And… she's having a very hard time breathing. I've tried healing it, but…whatever it is is extremely resistant to both my methods and the physician's. Nothing we do is working."

Suddenly there was a ringing in Mai's ears, and her eyes focused on the little girl who was really more baby than child. She stepped closer, and she could hear the strange, soft gasping coming from the princess, could see how the little girl continued to writhe and moan weakly through her exhaustion. And those soft, weak, mewling little cries that could send a knife through the heart of anyone even halfway human…

And she remembered Azula in her garden, demanding a poison that was painful to watch and experience, impossible to detect, and incurable if discovered. "Blood tulip," Mai whispered shakily, momentarily losing the ability to keep up her façade. The poisoning caused a fever as it spread throughout the body and moved to the kidneys, which it slowly began shutting down. As the waste products built up in the blood, the victim would lose his appetite, and suffer from weakness and fatigue. The acid load in the blood made it increasingly difficult to breathe. Meanwhile, the poison continued to ravage and affect other areas of the body. It caused violent vomiting and profuse watery diarrhea, which led to dehydration. Should the problems caused by the kidneys not kill the victim, he would eventually die of the shock brought on by the rapid dehydration.

"She knows what it is, Zuko!" The Katara exclaimed, and Mai repressed the urge to wince at the surge of hope that filled the younger woman's voice. "That's wonderful! Now you can fix her! She'll be okay!"

Mai suddenly found that her throat was thick and tight, and she couldn't answer. How could she tell this girl who had suffered so much already that the child she had loved as her own had become one of Azula's many victims? How could she tell Zuko that his daughter was dying, and there was nothing that anyone could do for her? She swallowed hard, and felt Zuko's eyes on her. Slowly, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Suddenly, his face contorted with anguish, and she knew that he understood. Katara looked from Zuko's suddenly averted face and back to Mai's own before her face fell, and her arms tightened around the toddler. "You can fix her, can't you?" she asked, and this time her voice was hollow and quite, desperation leaking into its tone.

Mai took in a deep breath, and struggled with where to look. She couldn't meet Katara's big, blue, desperate gaze, nor could she look at Zuko when he was suffering so much pain and there was nothing that she could do to help him. She could not look at the child either, who continued to let out her weak cries of pain and anguish- the very child whom she had helped to kill. Finally, her eyes settled on the weary, somber gaze of General Iroh.

There was pain in his eyes, a fathomless pain that she couldn't even begin to understand. But he was a general, and he had seen so much death within his lifetime that she somehow found it easier to look at him when she spoke rather than at anyone else. "I have a garden…" she began, and her voice was hoarser than she wanted it to be. But she could feel the weight of pain and death in the room, and decided that appearances did not matter for the moment. She could allow herself to feel freely, just this once. "I grow all kinds of things. Herbs and medicinal plants, mainly, but I also grow poisons. Azula comes to me every so often, and tells me what she needs. The other day she asked for…something painful… and incurable…" Mai trailed off and closed her eyes, feeling guilt crash around her. "I thought it was for Han Yu. Blood Tulip poisoning is such a painful death and she hated him so much. It made sense. If I would have known it was for the princess, I would have said no… I would have…"

Suddenly her throat was too tight to speak, and her eyes were swimming with tears. She hadn't allowed herself to cry in front of anyone for such a long time… her gut clenched up, and she balled her hands into fists so tight that her nails cut into her flesh. "I'm so sorry," she finally managed to choke out, and then General Iroh's hand was on her shoulder, warm and large and gentle.

"It is not your fault," he murmured softly, and Mai forced the watering in her eyes to subside, and wiped away the few drops of stray moisture in a swift, efficient movement.

Katara was weeping now, she could hear, and her gut wrenched when she turned and saw that Zuko's eyes were red and raw, his nose wet, silent tears coursing down his face. He was stroking Katara's back, trying to comfort her even through his own despair. "Isn't there something?" he asked, his voice trembling and vulnerable. "Anything you can do for her?"

Mai bit her lip hard, and shook her head. "All I can do is make her more comfortable before she…" she stopped herself from finishing her sentence, and Zuko nodded curtly.

"Please. Please, just… make her pain go away," he said brokenly, and Mai nodded.

"Opium," she said softly, and held out a small vial for him to take. She did not tell him why she carried it with her at this hour and he did not ask, although a knowing glint entered his eyes. But that was fine, because she had seen how his eyes lingered just too long on a bottle of sake; had overheard the servants talking about how he always kept a few bottles of liquor in his rooms. They were similar creatures, she and Zuko, and they understood each other without the use of words.

She swallowed hard again, and then bowed to Zuko. There were no words to say, not yet. It was too early for condolences, and too late for more apologies, and the timing was wrong to simply say goodbye. He seemed to understand, and he nodded his head in return before focusing all of his attention on Katara and his child.

So Mai turned on her heel and hurried out of the nursery, cursing Azula and praying to Agni to watch over Zuko while she could not.

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How can you describe a mother's grief? How can words even begin to express the ache within her; the gnawing darkness that has engulfed her spirit? How can you explain the way that she feels like she is falling to pieces, that if it weren't for skin and muscle and bone holding her body in place, she would melt to a puddle on the floor? How can you express a pain so deep that all she can do is curl into the fetal position, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, and open her mouth in an agonizing, silent scream?

The pain was so deep, so raw, that Katara could barely breathe. Every breath she took burned her lungs and brought tears to her eyes; every exhale released a broken dream. Her chest was tight, so tight that a part of her wondered how her heart could continue to beat as constricted as it was. And yet, there was gaping hole inside of her, one that she knew she could never hope to fill again. How could her body be so tight and pain filled, and yet be so empty at the same time?

Her arms ached with the need to hold, to cherish a child. Her body yearned for the little arms to wrap around her, that small, soft head to rest in the crook of her neck. But there was no child, not anymore. The little girl who had spent nights wrapped in her soft embrace was gone. The shell of her daughter had been set on a funeral pyre, and was waiting for the damned fire to consume her.

And where was she? Hidden away behind the pillars, forced to watch her daughter's funeral from the shadows. It wouldn't be fitting for a concubine to stand amongst the royal family in the light of day, or so Azula had said. When Zuko had told her, Katara had wanted nothing more than to kill her child's murderer; to rip the woman to shreds, to bask in her blood. But Zuko had held her tightly and whispered that he would take care of it, that it was his duty as a father to be the one who avenged Nozomi. And so she obeyed him and stood hidden from the public eye, Jee and Ryu at her side, supporting her as Zuko could not.

Zuko stood basked in the sunlight, his shoulders straight in his need to appear strong before his people. Katara could not see the man from last night in the Fire Lord; could not see the stooped, slumped boy who had held her and their dying child through the night and into the early hours of the morning. His face was set in heavy lines of grief, but he was composed. He exuded strength, no matter how fragile that strength truly was.

Katara, however, was not strong. Once upon a time, when the world was kind, that term might have applied to her. But now, at her daughter's funeral, stripped of her freedom and her rights as a mother, Katara was not strong in the slightest. She had heard that long ago, women used to throw themselves on the funeral pyres of their deceased. She had not understood it then, but now she knew that she would willingly die in the flames that consumed Nozomi. She would welcome their burn, relish the pain that the fire could offer. Surely, that pain could not even begin to compare with that of losing a child.

A burst of flame shot out from Zuko's fist and the pyre was lit, Nozomi's sweet face obscured by the flames. Katara let out a strangled cry and lurched forward, but Ryu gripped her arms tightly and held her back as she struggled against him. Her grief was so profound that she could taste it on her tongue, feel it roiling in her stomach and speeding through her veins. It pulsed within her body, making her shake uncontrollably and her eyes stream with tears.

And then the surge of adrenaline faded and she slumped to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest and holding on to herself tightly as though she would fall apart if she did not. She dimly noticed Ryu stepping away, and through a haze was able to smell the sickly sweet stench associated with scorched flesh. And then she was rocking, back and forth, back and forth, feeling as though she were in agony and yet numb all at the same time.

How could words describe this feeling? There was no word that could encompass this emotion. Not grief, not hurt, not pain or suffering, not agony or anguish. It went so deep, and was so profound that the emotion itself was nameless.

And then there was a hand on her shoulder- a pale, bony hand whose fingers were so long that they almost looked inhuman. The touch was so light that Katara might not have felt it if it weren't for her hyperawareness on this most awful of days. Katara swallowed and looked up, and through her tears she made out Mai's usually stony face now touched with something like regret, something like sorrow, something like understanding. Katara sniffled and grasped that thin, fragile white hand in both of hers, and then Mai, the cold hearted noble woman, was kneeling on the floor beside her, allowing Katara to grasp onto her as though she were a lifeline.

Two more different women could never be found. One cold and one warm, one harsh and one gentle, one indifferent and one compassionate. But somehow, someway, while sitting in the shadows of the Fire Nation palace, two grieving women bonded in a way too powerful for words, and a tenuous, fledgling friendship was born.

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Zuko dropped to the floor, landing on the balls of his feet to ensure a quiet landing. Slowly, carefully, so as not to make any sound, he slid his window closed and latched it behind him. The lock squeaked a protest, and Zuko winced as the grating sound cut through the silence of the room like a knife.

"Why does the Fire Lord have to steal into his own bedchamber at this hour?" Zuko whirled around at the voice, Dao blades leaping to his hands in a display of the well honed instinct of the Blue Spirit. A flicker of fire emerged from the darkness, and Zuko's posture relaxed when the small flame illuminated his uncle's weary face. A quick movement of the aging man's hands sent fire to the wicks of the candles in the room, and suddenly the dark space was brought out from the shadows.

Iroh stared at Zuko for a long time, and Zuko swallowed hard, knowing what his mentor was seeing. His blades were sticky with blood, his black clothing soaked in it, his face speckled from it's spray. It had begun to dry on his skin; he could feel it crusting on his chin and nose and good eyelid. But he felt no regret, and strangely, there was no condemnation in his uncle's eyes. "Go wash yourself, and burn those clothes," Iroh said softly instead of chastising him, his voice filled with a knowing weariness, a sympathetic understanding.

Zuko swallowed thickly and nodded, hurrying to the washroom and closing the door behind him. Quickly, he peeled of his clothes and chucked them to the floor, wishing the images that played over and over in his mind could be cast aside so easily. There was the image of little Nozomi's face, one minute dimpled and laughing, the next flushed and pained, and later bone white and devoid of life. There was the picture of a wild eyed Katara clutching their dead child in her arms, rocking back and forth, insisting that the baby was only sleeping, that she would wake up soon. There was the image of the fire consuming to too small, too pale, too young body of his daughter, the bright bursts of flame giving her skin just enough color that he wondered if maybe, maybe they were mistaken, maybe she was still alive. And then they consumed her completely, turning the small, helpless body that he had held in his arms so many times into a mound of ash.

And then… then there was the image of his sister sleeping in her bed- a deep, dreamless, guiltless sleep. If she were truly human, if she was truly sane, she would have been tossing and turning or pacing the floor, riddled with guilt over murdering her niece. And then, through a haze of red, he could see his swords plunging into her sleeping body, her eyes snapping open with pain and shock. Before she had the chance to scream he had withdrawn the swords and plunged them in again- over and over until the red haze had subsided and he could see the dullness of her eyes, the blood that trickled from her mouth and stained her sheets crimson, the gaping wounds in her torso.

At that point, a different image had assaulted his mind, one foggy with the age of a time long passed. One of a chubby toddler with spiky hair and amber eyes who had trailed him everywhere, whose first word had been a horrible, adorable attempt to say his name: Zuzu.

How could killing feel so right, so justified, and yet so wrong at the same time? Azula's death had been necessary. He had craved it even, longed for it with all of his strength. And yet… however twisted, however sadistic, however insane she had become, she was still the grown up version of that chubby toddler from all those years ago- the little girl he had sworn to protect before she had breathed her first flame or descended into madness. She was his enemy, but she had also been his sister.

Zuko cursed and lit his blood soaked garments on fire with trembling hands, destroying the evidence of the murder he had committed. Or had it really been murder? Kills made on the battlefield were never considered in such a way. They were a necessity, a job…forgivable. Was killing for vengeance any different? On the battlefield, a man killed to avenge his father, his brother, his friend, to protect his family and the men he was fighting alongside. Wasn't a kill of vengeance the same thing? He had killed to avenge his daughter, his friends, the woman who had been his wife for far too short a time; to protect his crown, his sanity, and the woman he loved. Perhaps, then, killing his sister hadn't been murder. Perhaps it had merely been a casualty of war.

He shuddered and plunged himself into his tub, his limbs weak and shaking from the sudden loss of adrenaline. The water washed the blood from his limbs, but still it swirled around him, faint, spidery lines of pink in an otherwise clear pool.

What would Katara say when she found out about Azula? About how he had lost control, given into his darker urges, and had continued to stab the woman long after she had passed on? She would be horrified, he was sure. Katara was too kind, too gentle, too good to be able to understand that kind of barbaric behavior. He wanted to keep it a secret from her, wanted her to believe that he was just as good as she was, that he too was incapable of such a fierce, blinding rage. But deception was what had made him lose her in the first place. And now that she had returned to him, now that some small part of her welcomed his embrace, he did not want to lose her again. He would not make the same mistake twice.

Zuko sunk down to his chin in the water, doing his best to ignore the pink ribbons that swirled around his body. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world around him, attempting to shut out memory as well. And he breathed. He focused on the reassuring sound of his inhales and exhales- each breath reminding him that he had survived, that he was alive. That no matter how many had died, no mater how many he had killed, he was still there.

He wasn't sure how long he had lain in the tub counting his breaths; time had suddenly seemed to lose all meaning. The world started to consist merely of the pink swirled water, ragged breathing, and memories. And then there was a furious pounding on the door, shattering the silence and causing Zuko to jolt from the tub. Quickly, he yanked his bathrobe over his too thin form- he caught sight of the sudden skinniness in the mirror and winced- before yanking open his washroom door and glowering at the guard who stood before him, fist raised and face obscured behind his faceplate.

"I am sorry to intrude, My Lord," the man said quickly, and his eyes swung over to Iroh for support before landing somewhere on Zuko's shoulder. "I'm afraid I bear bad tidings… It is regretful for this to happen tonight of all nights, after the princess…" Zuko glowered at the man, and the guard cleared his throat before continuing. "It would appear the Blue Spirit has struck again, Sire."

Zuko met Iroh's gaze over the man's shoulder, and Iroh raised his brows. "And what did he do this time?" Iroh asked, slight amusement in his tone. "Raid a noble's home and steal another golden tea set?" he asked, and despite himself, a corner of Zuko's mouth twitched at the memory.

He had been such a child back in those days. A pampered, spoiled child who had believed that the world owed him, believed that as a prince he deserved the best of everything. It was strange to think that he had traveled the Earth Kingdom with his uncle only a little under a year and a half before. It seemed that those days had occurred so long ago- decades rather than less than two short years. Lifetimes had passed in so short a time.

"No, General," the guard replied. "He has murdered the Fire Lady." The man took a deep breath, and then plunged forwards. "He left his mask at the scene, as well as a note that said 'She will never kill again.'"

Zuko felt Iroh's steady gaze on him, and he swallowed hard. "Search the grounds," Zuko managed to say through a thick throat, and the man nodded swiftly. "But don't expect to find him," Zuko added before the guard could leave, "There is a reason that he is called the Blue Spirit; the man might as well be a ghost.."

The guard bowed stiffly before hastening to the hall at Zuko's dismissive gesture. Once the clanking of his armor had vanished, the room settled into silence.

"The Blue Spirit?" Iroh asked after a certain amount of time had passed, and Zuko nodded. "I thought we agreed that he was dead," the old general said, and Zuko shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"For this, he needed to be brought back to life," he replied softly, and Iroh rested his hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"That he did…that he did."

---------------------------

"Kin," Zuko greeted softly at the door. The woman stared at him for a long moment before sighing and allowing him entrance. "How is she?" he murmured softly, and Kin closed her eyes before taking a seat on a chaise in Katara's lounge.

"She's not eating, not sleeping, cries most of the day. She found one of Nimi's dresses and yesterday she hasn't put it down since. She says it smells like the baby, that it's like having some part of Nimi with her." Kin took a deep breath and then put her head in her hands. "That child is what saved her all those months ago. Quite frankly, Your Highness, I'm not sure that she'll be able to survive this."

Zuko swallowed roughly, his chest aching, his throat thick and tight. "She'll survive," he whispered hoarsely. He cleared his throat and composed himself. "Where is she?" he asked, and Kin sighed softly.

"She's in the bathroom. She locks herself in there when the pain gets too hard to bear… she doesn't want us to see her when she breaks," Kin replied, and Zuko nodded his head in thanks before hurrying through Katara's bedchambers and stopping before the bolted door of her washroom.

"Katara," Zuko called out softly, gently rapping on the door. "Katara, honey, open the door," he called out again, his voice thick with unshed tears. The sound of her weeping reached his ears, and his heart broke. "Baby, please, talk to me," he pleaded, but he got no response.

Zuko swallowed hard, and then rested his head against the door. "I'm suffering through this too, you know; you're not the only one. Uncle dealt with it long before we did…we're going to need each other to get past it. I know that what I did to you was…unforgivable…but…" Zuko swallowed as he struggled for words.

Silence met his ears. That in itself was odd, as it now meant that the woman was no longer weeping. "Tara?" Zuko asked, knocking on the door again. "Katara, are you alright?"

She didn't answer him, but Zuko could have sworn he heard a pained gasp followed by the noise of something clattering to the floor. All at once, panic settled in. Zuko wasn't quite sure what it was that had him so terrified, or even if he was justified in his fear. Nevertheless, the feeling overwhelmed him just enough for him to force the door open.

What he saw within made his stomach turn, and he had to resist the urge to retch before he rushed forwards to the young woman. Katara sat in the middle of the room, her hands resting palms up on her knees, her face blotchy and contorted with grief and pain. Her wrists had both been slashed, and blood poured freely down her forearms and over the expensive silk of her dress. A knife lay at her side where she had apparently dropped it, its gleaming surface slick with the red substance.

Zuko leapt forward with all of the agility the Blue Spirit had been famed for, and quickly clasped her wrists within his hands. "Get me a physician!" Zuko shouted, applying as much pressure as he could to the wounds. Footsteps echoed through the room, and he glanced up to meet Ryu's horrified face. "Get a physician, damnit! Do you want her to bleed to death?" he shouted, and the guard's face regained some of his color and he rushed to do as his Lord had commanded him.

"Katara, honey, stay with me," Zuko pleaded, keeping his grip on her wrists tight. The woman's eyelids fluttered and her skin had turned pallid, and for a brief moment, Zuko allowed the panic to take over. Just as quickly, he bottled it up inside him and he leaned closer to the woman. "Everything's going to be okay, Tara." He planted a light kiss on her pale lips, and her gaze finally fluttered up to meet his.

"Just let me die," she whispered, her voice hoarse and her tone begging. "Let me die," she said again, louder this time. Zuko shook his head fiercely, and then leaned his forehead against Katara's.

"Never."

"You're…being selfish," Katara gasped, her eyes starting to roll to the back of her head from blood loss.

"Yes," Zuko agreed easily, and he had the distinct feeling that had Katara not been so weak, she would have chuckled. "I just lost my daughter. I can't lose my wife too," he admitted softly.

"We're not…"

"I don't care what a damn piece of paper says. I married you then, and I'd marry you all over again. In my mind, you're still my wife."

Katara took a deep, shaking breath to fortify herself. "Unreasonable…"

Zuko chuckled, despite the gravity of the situation. "Always." Katara went to open her mouth again, and Zuko quickly shushed her. "Save your strength," he said softly, and the woman nodded slightly before letting all of her weight fall against the Fire Lord.

Zuko carefully maneuvered her so that she was resting in his lap and her head lay against his shoulder. "Don't go to sleep," Zuko warned when he could feel her breathing begin to even out, and she murmured a sleepy protest. "I'm not kidding Katara."

The girl continued to drift despite his admonitions, and once again, panic tightened like an icy vice around Zuko's heart. He spent the next few moments shaking the girl to keep her awake, the tension beginning to roll out of his shoulders every time her eyes flickered back open.

By the time the doctor had arrived, Zuko's adrenaline was coursing so high through his veins that he was unable to feel the discomfort of his position or the exhaustion for having not slept over the past few days. The little old man surveyed the scene before his slanted eyes grew large and his mouth narrowed into a grim line.

The physician bowed his grayed head to the Fire Lord before quickly kneeling and tying strips of linen around the woman's wrists when Zuko removed his hands. The little man gestured to Ryu, who quickly hefted the woman out of Zuko's lap and into his arms.

"You are to treat her as you would treat me, do you understand?" Zuko asked, his voice hard and cold. The physician nodded his head quickly before gesturing for the guard to take the young woman to the infirmary.

"And doctor," Zuko added, causing the man to turn around. "If she dies, I'll have your head on a pike." It was not a threat; it was a promise, and the physician didn't doubt the young Fire Lord's sincerity for a moment. The little man bowed his head in reverence before turning slowly and hurrying after Ryu.

It was only when he was alone that Zuko noticed his hands were stained with blood.

-----------------------------------

Everything was blurry, her surroundings shrouded in fog. There were voices floating around her, but they sounded so far away… as though they were being carried through one of the Earth Kingdom tunnels. She was cold too, cold and empty and numb. She welcomed the lack of feeling, the lack of thought that accompanied it.

"Katara." The voice somehow fully penetrated the fog of her mind, although it was farther off than any of the others. It came from above where the people in white were working feverishly over her, from somewhere past the ceiling and farther above, someplace not in the palace.

She frowned and tried to say something in response, but her mouth wouldn't work, and the only sound that escaped her was a low moan. She didn't want to be here; didn't want to hear the voice or sense the movements of too many panicked hands. She wanted the blackness that was just out of her reach; longed for oblivion. She closed her eyes and her breath evened out as she searched for it, and just when it was in her grasp, the voice came again.

"Katara!" it exclaimed, sounding closer now. It was a child's voice, and yet a man's voice at the same time. There was the young, high pitch of a boy, but a certain wise, deep undercurrent to it that could only belong to an adult. "Open your eyes, Katara," the man-child said, and Katara mumbled something in response as she searched for the blackness again. But now it was too far away, too difficult to reach. "Open your eyes. Look at me," he said again, his voice softer, gentler, and somehow familiar in all it's strangeness.

Katara's eyes felt like they were being held down by heavy weights, but she finally managed to force them open. The people were still working feverishly around her, but they had suddenly faded- their shapes melding into one and their voices becoming almost completely obscured. But in front of them was a boy standing in perfect clarity, a small smile on his dear, dear face.

Katara tried to open her mouth to speak, but it wouldn't cooperate. _Aang!_ The name reverberated in her skull as she stared into those familiar, gentle gray eyes, and he suddenly tossed her a crooked smile that made her heart ache. _Oh, Aang… I've missed you,_ she thought, tears coming to her eyes as she took every detail of him in, from his bald, tattooed head down to the arrows on his bare feet. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him- a child with a wisdom beyond his years, a wisdom that was often masked by the mischievous twinkle in his big eyes.

"I've been watching over you these past few months," he replied softly, coming close enough to her to brush her cheek with his fingertips. The touch was cold, and caused a shudder to run down her spine.

_Why didn't you come to me sooner? I needed you_. Katara could feel the tears that had suddenly begun to run down her cheeks, and she noticed the pain in Aang's eyes.

"You were never close enough to the Spirit World for you to sense me. But I'm here now."

Katara tried to nod, but she was too weak. Her body refused to comply with her mind. _Have you come to take me to the Spirit World?_

Aang was shaking his head, and his cold, cold hand rested on her arm in comfort. "It is not your time."

_I want it to be my time! Take me back with you! Take me to see my mother! Please, Aang! Please!_

The hand moved to stroke her hair, and Katara could feel goose-bumps rise on her scalp. "You are needed here. I promise you, I will meet you and take you to your mother when your time comes. But I cannot take you now."

Katara swallowed thickly and blinked away tears of disappointment. _Is… Is Nimi okay? _

There was a pause, and then Aang's eyes crinkled in a smile. "See for yourself," he said, joy flooding his voice. Toph appeared out of nowhere, Nozomi on her hip.

"Long time no see, Sugar Queen!" Toph exclaimed, and at the sound of her voice, Katara began to weep. "Geesh, girl! Enough with the water works already. Tone it down! And you!" she said, whirling to pin a glare on Aang. "What's with leaving me with the kid? I don't do motherly!"

_Toph…your eyes…_

"Yeah, yeah. I can see. Big whoop. You look awful by the way," Toph replied with a roll of her eyes, and if Katara had the strength, she would have laughed. "Here. The kid wants to say hi," she said, dropping the squirming baby onto Katara's bed.

Nozomi patted Katara's cheeks with her little hands, and gave her a gigantic grin. "Mama," she said brightly, sounding happy and carefree.

Katara swallowed hard, and stared up at Aang. _Is this allowed?_

Aang laughed a little, scratching the back of his head in the awkward gesture that she remembered so well. "I… uh… I may be bending the rules just a little," he replied, and Toph scoffed.

"Bending them? Twinkle Toes, you're full out breaking all the rules here! We're not supposed to return to the mortal realm- non-Avatars, anyways."

"Well, I'm still the Avatar. Even dead, the title has its perks. I won't get into too much trouble," Aang replied with his trademark crooked grin, and Katara would have returned it if she had been physically able.

"Damn, our time's up," Toph said, scooping Nozomi up off Katara's bed and hauling the baby into her arms.

_Language,_ Katara said on reflex, and Toph rolled her eyes again.

"Always the mother," she grumbled. But then she paused for as moment, and allowed the rough and tough façade to fall away. When she turned back to Katara she looked very young, like the child that she was. "I'm not one for sentimental crap, but… You always had my back, even when I wanted to be on my own. So um…I uh… I'll be in the welcoming party when Twinkle Toes brings you over."

Katara could hear the words that Toph couldn't bring herself to say, and when she replied, her smile was conveyed in her tone. _I'll miss you too, Toph. Look after Nimi for me._

"Great. Now I'm saddled with a kid for all eternity," Toph replied, but her voice sounded gruff, as though she was holding back tears. She turned to Aang, who nodded to her. "See you on the other side, Twinkle Toes," she said, and then turned and walked away. Nozomi waved goodbye over the young girl's shoulder, and then the pair vanished into the fog.

"You're almost out of danger now," Aang said softly, taking one of her hands into both of his. Katara welcomed the touch, even though it made her blood run cold. "Pretty soon you won't be able to sense me any more."

_Don't go. Don't leave me here alone._

"You're not alone. You have Uncle and Zuko," he replied softly, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her skin tingled at the touch. "But I will always be watching over you. Even after the next avatar comes and I can't be in the mortal realm anymore… I'll be looking over you from the Spirit World."

Katara sniffled, and her hand twitched as she tried to squeeze his in gratitude. _Thank you. _

Aang was beginning to fade, her surroundings beginning to become more prominent. _Aang!_ She called out, panicked. His face was beginning to blur, those large, gentle gray eyes becoming obscured.

The cold pinpricks on her face let her know that he was still there, that he was brushing her cheeks in a gesture of comfort. "I'm here, Katara. I'm here," he murmured gently, his voice sounding as though it was coming from a great distance. "Katara, before you go…" he said, and Katara frowned, struggling to make out his words. "Tell Zuko that I understand. Tell him that I forgive him," he said softly. And then, in a voice that was so faded she could barely hear it, he said "I love you."

_I love you too._ And then Aang was gone. The cold pinpricks against her skin had ceased, and she could no longer see him standing beside her. But he had promised that he would be near, that he would be watching over her. She clung to the promise, clung to the image of his sweet, smiling face as she drifted off to sleep. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt content.


	19. Chapter 18

_This chapter is dedicated to Daddy's Little Cannibal who past away last weekend. FF just won't be the same without her. _

_Warning: I know I have had people ask for this, so I am offering this to you in advance. For those who are opposed to anything resembling a lemon, this chapter contains one. There is absolutely nothing explicit and I believe that the little that is written is quite tasteful, but if you are one of those who does not want to risk reading it, that is fine. Just PM me, and I will send you an edited version of this chapter with the scene cut out. (I will only send this to someone who contacts me via their own FF account. I will not email the scene if you are not a member of the FF community.) _

_Happy reading. _

* * *

For days he had sat by her bedside in the infirmary. He left only occasionally, and only for the most important matters of state. He refused to go to court, refused to deal with the growing mound of paperwork in his office. Iroh had quietly stepped into the role of Fire Lord, and took care of such matters for him. It was assumed that he had taken the leave of absence out of his grief over his daughter's death, and so his departure was tolerated, and even sympathized with. The women of the court were touched by his love for the young princess, and because the women were impressed with him, their husbands were as well.

And so he had been able to sit by Katara's side for hours at a time, uninterrupted. Most of the time, she was unconscious, and the few times she had woken over the past few days, she had been groggy and disoriented. The first time she had opened her eyes and seen his face, she had murmured, "Aang says hi," before promptly falling back to sleep. The next few times they had been able to keep her up long enough to spoon some gruel into her mouth, but even then she hadn't been coherent.

For the first day and a half, he had refused to sleep, determined that he would be alert when she awoke. But then his eyelids had gotten heavy, and his body had betrayed him, and he had fallen asleep with his head pillowed in his arms, which were resting crossed on her bed.

When he had woken, he had been panicked, terrified that she had opened her eyes and he had missed it. The physician, however, assured him that she had remained unconscious the entire time, and promised to wake Zuko should Katara become aware of her surroundings while she was sleeping. So now, Zuko alternated between watching over her in his waking hours, and sleeping with his head on her bed, never straying from her side except when he was called away on an urgent matter or needed to relieve himself.

And for the first time in a long time, Zuko prayed. He kept his hands clasped together, his head bowed low as he pleaded for Katara's return to health, begging Agni to keep her alive. He made all sorts of bargains- he promised that if Katara would open her eyes, he would put an end to the fighting once and for all. He swore that he would do everything within his power to remain a just ruler. He promised that he would donate a substantial amount to the temples every year, and that he would throw a lavish banquet in Agni's honor annually. He swore that he didn't need her love, didn't need her trust. All he needed was for her to _live_.

And perhaps, Agni heard his prayers. Perhaps the god took pity on him. In the third day of Katara's convalescence, he was resting with his head on her bed, as per usual. But then, then he had felt slim, delicate fingers threading through his hair. And when he lifted his head, the fingers trailed from his hair to his lips, from his lips to his chin, and then to cup his face. Katara was staring at him, her eyes broken, but the faintest of smiles resting upon her lips.

"You're here," she had murmured, and Zuko took the hand that was on his face in both of his and then kissed the linen wrapped around her wrist, her palm, each of her fingertips.

"Of course I am," he replied hoarsely, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to her forehead. He felt her shudder beneath his touch, but she didn't pull away. When he drew back from her, her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. "Promise me that you'll never do that again," he whispered, and she opened her eyes.

It hurt him to see those big blue orbs so empty, so filled with despair. But she nodded her head slowly, taking his hands in her's and squeezing them gently. "I promise," she replied, and Zuko let out a shuddering sigh.

"You terrified me," he murmured, holding onto her hands as though they were his lifeline. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"I'm sorry," she had replied quietly, her big blue eyes beginning to swim with tears. "I'm sorry!" she had exclaimed again, and Zuko had crawled up onto her sickbed and pulled her into his arms. She had clung to his tunic and pressed herself close to him, curling up like a child in his arms.

And he had rocked her, back and forth, back and forth, until the tears stopped flowing and her breath had come in deep, even breaths. And then he had smiled and kissed the crown of her head, knowing that this was a sleep that she would wake from, that even after their daughter's death, she welcomed his touch. And somehow, in that moment, he knew that everything would be okay.

--------------------------------

Mai laid in the darkness of her room, the door bolted shut, the curtains drawn, and the canopy closed tightly around her bed. She was curled into the fetal position, the covers drawn over her head, a fist pressed to her mouth to silence her weeping.

For three days, she had laid in this bed, refusing to stand in the sunlight or even go so far as to open the drapes of her canopy. For three days, she had not eaten, bathed, or combed her hair. Rather, she shrouded herself in a silent grief, refusing to let the outside world in, and refusing to go join it herself.

Azula had never been the best of friends. She had been cruel and vindictive, and had often even bordered on the insane. She was a liar and a murderer, a thief and a cheat. But there had been good buried deep inside her, Mai knew. Her cruelty had stemmed from her insanity, but beneath it all, there had been a scared little girl who only wanted her mother's love. If the Lady Ursa hadn't favored Zuko, if Ozai hadn't taken such a twisted interest in his prodigy of a daughter, perhaps she could have turned out the woman that she was born to be.

Azula had deserved death, Mai knew. It was in Zuko's right to murder her in order to avenge his daughter. But still, she couldn't remember a time in her life when Azula hadn't been there. And yes, she had tortured her. Yes, she had driven her mad, but in a way, Azula had been like a sister to her.

And even if Azula had not known the true meaning of friendship, Mai had. And so she had accepted Azula for who she was, in spite of her many flaws. She had learned to look passed the horrible parts of Azula's character to see the good in her- to see her strength, creativity, and determination. And it was because of this, because of the good she knew that had dwelt within her friend, because of all the time she had spent with the girl, and the fact that Azula was more of a sibling to her than Tom-Tom was, the Fire Lady's death tore at something deep within her.

And whatever that something had torn, it had left her feeling broken and empty, like a massive part of her heart had suddenly vanished. And so she was left sobbing in her bed, unable to sleep or eat or move for the pain of loss that ripped through her body.

She longed to be numb, to be able to stop feeling, to stop caring, to be as cold and impassive as the front she put up. More than anything, she just wanted the ache in her heart to subside, for the foolish organ to cease longing for what could have been and what should have been. She wanted to stop seeing Azula's face, to stop yearning for Zuko, to stop wishing that she was someone else.

Mai sniffled and pushed herself up on her elbows, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She could not force herself to become numb, she knew, no matter how much she wanted to. She could not change the past, could not erase the pain that shrouded her. There was nothing that she could do but to learn how to move past it, to push it to the back of her mind so that she could simply function.

Her head swum when she forced herself into a sitting position and her body cried out to lay back down, to curl itself back into the fetal position and weep until the tears ran dry. But Mai refused to give into her bodies' urging, pushing open the heavy fabric of the canopy instead. There was no light in the room save for a candle that burned on her vanity, but even that miniscule amount of light was enough to make her wince after the darkness she had lived in.

Her legs were shaky and weak when she forced herself to stand upright; she was so light headed that if she were a lesser woman she would have fainted. But Mai was not weak- she had killed, had gone hungry, had survived both the war and the turmoil at court, had aided in the murder of the child of the man she loved, had lost her best friend and almost sister, and had somehow managed to live through it all. Her circumstances had lent her a strong constitution and a will of steel; she would not allow a simple bout of dizziness to conquer her.

So, step by slow step, she forced herself to walk to the glass doors that led to her balcony. She paused only once, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the tall, gilt mirror that hung on the far wall. She was thinner, paler than usual, her white face red and blotchy from crying. Her already small eyes had narrowed into slits due to the puffiness of her cheeks; her long hair was hopelessly tangled, and was matted about her face and knotted into the buttons of her nightdress. It was a broken, lost creature that stared back at her from the mirror, more girl than woman, more of a scared child than a deadly assassin.

Mai took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders, lifting her chin in the air and straightening her core. Her long, delicate, pale hands curled into fists at her side, and she pulled her mouth into a hard, cold line. And then the terrified child was gone, replaced by a deadly woman made of steel and filled with determination. Her wild hair and puffy face no longer looked quite so sad or pathetic. Now, with her chin thrust in the air and her eyes glinting with strength, they somehow made her look dangerous- a force to be reckoned with, not a child to take advantage of.

She nodded slightly at her image in the mirror, both pleased and saddened by the quick change in her appearance. And with that, she turned back to her balcony, pulling aside heavy silk drapes to reveal large glass doors. She took a deep breath of the stale air of her room before twisting the knob and quietly pushing it open. The sudden burst of fresh, crisp air took her breath away, and she merely stood on the threshold for a moment, her eyes closed, breathing in the night.

It took several moments to garner the courage to step outside the safe cloister of her room and out to the openness of the balcony. She cursed herself in her head for her foolishness; she who had sought the avatar with well honed senses, who had spilt so much blood in battle, was too cautious to step outside her own door? She took a deep breath and slipped out into the night, the stone of the balcony cool against her bare feet.

The view was the same was it had always been- the gardens below her, the shimmering of the silken drapes of the balcony across from her. Although she was too high up to see them clearly, she knew that the same family of turtleducks was swimming in the pond; that the Koi fish were twirling and writhing below the water's surface. Although everything was the same as it had been three days ago, it was also profoundly and irrevocably different. The sun would rise on the horizon, the days would melt into night, the turtleducks would continue to swim as they always had. It was she who had changed, she who was different.

Her days would be emptier now than they had been in years, now that Azula was no longer there to summon her, to order her to aid her in some demented task. And Mai would no longer drop what she was doing and go out of both fear and the knowledge that the reason that the Fire Lady did so was because although she would never admit it, she was lonely and in desperate need of a friend. Her nights would no longer be filled with her and Ty Lee's whispers of what to do about their friend, how to obey her without losing themselves in the process.

Her life had revolved around Azula, Mai realized now, as she stood on the balcony. Consciously or no, every moment of her life from the time they had met in the Fire Academy for Girls had been spent with Azula lurking in the back of her mind. Azula had become a part of her, a part of the everyday moments of her life. Seeing Azula had been as natural as seeing the sun rise each morning, as feeling the cool winter breeze against her skin.

Mai took a deep breath and gripped the stone rail of her balcony tightly, a shudder passing through her body. Her fingers were shaking, her chin trembling as her resolve not to cry anymore began to crack. And then, from above her, she heard a sniffle. She snapped to attention suddenly, whirling around with her hands raised, sorrow pushed to the back of her mind as her well honed senses took over.

But when she looked up, the fight left her and her arms dropped back to her sides limply. Ty Lee was perched on the rooftop, her wiry brown hair unbound and hanging crazily about her face, her face puffy and tear stained. The moisture was streaming down her cheeks unchecked, and her nose was running. When she saw Mai's eyes on her, she let out a little cry and leapt down from the rooftop before wrapping her arms tightly around Mai's tall, slender form, burying her head into the crook of Mai's neck as she sobbed loudly.

"I shouldn't be so sad… she was so mean!" Ty Lee exclaimed. "But I'm so sad, Mai. I miss her so much!"

Mai was not a maternal person by nature, and she was just as upset as Ty Lee was. But because she was the stronger of the two, she held the young acrobat in her arms and rubbed her back as the girl wept like the child she truly was, murmuring words of assurance that neither of them believed.

And that night, two friends clung to one another and grieved for an abused child who had been thrust into war far too early to keep sane.

---------------------------------

"Gran-Gran!" Suki exclaimed, her hair frazzled, her eyes bleary from lack of sleep. "I can't get him to stop crying! Make him stop!" Suki exclaimed, bouncing a screaming Hakoda in her arms.

Gran-Gran didn't even bother to look up from where she was stewing sea prunes over the fire. "Have you fed him?" she asked, and Suki sighed, exasperated.

"I've tried to feed him, but he won't latch on! And he doesn't need his wrappings changed, he doesn't look sick… I don't know what to do!"

Gran-Gran rolled her eyes heavenward, and then withdrew the wooden spoon from the pot. She wiped her hands on her parka, and then she held out her arms. "Give him to me," she said, and Suki willingly obliged. Gran-Gran settled the baby against her shoulder and gently rubbed the baby's back, making little cooing noises as she did so.

Suki stared in disbelief as her son's cries settled to soft mewlings, and a feeling akin to failure settled in her breast. "I'm a horrible mother!" she exclaimed, sinking down to a chair and burying her head in her hands.

Gran-Gran clucked her tongue, and lightly slapped the back of Suki's head. "I won't have any of that talk," the old woman said brusquely, and then she brushed past her granddaughter-in-law.

"But I never know what to do with him! He's always crying, and I never know how to make him stop, and…and… I'm just not good at it!" she cried, and she could feel the moisture gathering in her eyes. She blinked furiously, determined not to cry again- Spirits knew she had broken into hysterics more times than she could count since her son's birth.

"You're a new mother. You'd never been around a baby before you gave birth to one. You're doing remarkably well, considering."

"But Gran-Gran! I never get any sleep, and I'm always at my wit's end, and…and… he just drives me crazy sometimes. Good mothers don't want to yell at their babies! Good mothers don't care how much sleep they get because they're so happy to have their child!"

At that, Gran-Gran laughed outright. "What world are you from, girl?" the old woman cackled, and then shook her head. "New mothers never sleep. They're always cranky. A few of them have confessed to me that they've considered shoving a sock into their baby's mouth so that they can get a few hours of peace and quiet."

Suki stared, and wiped her eyes. "Other women have felt that way?" she asked quietly, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Gran-Gran chuckled and nodded. "What sleep deprived, hormonal woman wouldn't?" she asked, and Suki sighed softly, her head dropping to her hands again.

"It still makes me a horrible mother," she murmured, and Gran-Gran sighed.

"You're seventeen years old, Suki," the woman said, her voice suddenly deeply serious. "I've always thought it was a ridiculous custom for women to marry so young. You're just not ready for the responsibility that comes along with it yet." Gran-Gran paused, and then took a seat next to the young mother. "You, however, are a very mature young woman. You've handled everything very admirably. And yes, you are out of sorts right now. Yes, you are confused, and tired, and a regular crank pot if I do say so myself. But the last thing you are is a horrible mother."

Suki sniffed softly, lifted her head from her hands, and gave the old woman a tremulous smile. "Really?" she asked softly, and Gran-Gran nodded. Suki's smile widened and she lunged forwards, wrapping her arms tightly around her husband's grandmother while at the same time avoiding crushing her son.

Gran-Gran sat still for a moment, and then cleared her throat gruffly. "Alright, enough of that," she said, sounding more than a little uncomfortable with the affection. Suki merely squeezed the woman tighter for a moment before pulling away, her grin wide and her eyes bright.

"Let me take him," Suki murmured softly, her eyes gentling as she looked down at her son. Gran-Gran passed the baby to his mother, and Suki cradled the infant in her arms, thankful for the fact that he was now near sleep and finally quiet.

Suddenly, the ice doors whooshed open, and Beno rushed inside, his eyes alight. The stomping of his boots wakened little Hakoda, and the baby began to scream once again. Suki muttered a curse as she started crooning to her child, lightly tapping his back, and glaring heatedly at Beno.

"You woke him up! Do you have any idea how long it took me to put him down?" she demanded harshly, finding that she had to yell over the wails of her infant.

Beno gave her a little bow of apology, and tossed her a sheepish smile. "I'm truly sorry, Suki, I really am, but… a Fire Nation ship is pulling into the harbor!"

Gran-Gran stood slowly, old joints popping as she did so. "A Fire Nation ship? Again?" the old woman asked, and Suki took in a deep breath, anticipation filling her.

"They're flying a white flag, and they're lowering a small boat from the deck as we speak… I'm sure it's Sokka."

Suki's breath caught in her throat, and suddenly the wailing of her baby didn't grate on her nerves quite so much, suddenly the exhaustion had fled. "Sokka's home," she breathed softly, and before she knew it, Gran-Gran had plucked Hakoda from her arms, and gave her a little shove towards the door.

And then she was running, flying through the snow, weaving in and out of the crowd of excited Southern Water Tribes members towards the docks. A small boat was, in fact, heading their way, a man standing at the prow. Her heart beating frantically, Suki traced the movement of the little boat with wide eyes. And then… Spirits… It was close enough so that she could make out the figure of the man. His beard and hair had grown longer, his frame had gotten slightly taller, but it was undeniably her husband.

"Sokka!" she shouted jubilantly, unrestrained joy filling her voice. And then, even from the distance, their eyes locked and she could see his wide, wide smile. She heard him shout her name from over the waves, and her heart stuttered in it's frantic drumming at the sound of his voice.

Through a fog, she noted the boat getting nearer, noted it dock and let one of it's two passengers off. And then she was flying forwards, her arms outstretched, and then she was clasped tight in his embrace, pressed close against his chest, his lips in her hair. They trailed from her braided hair to her forehead to her cheeks and then finally to her mouth, the kisses warm and wet and desperate. And her entire body was wrapped around his, and her cheeks were wet from her tears- or were they his?- and she was saying things that even she couldn't understand for the catch in her voice.

"I love you, I love you," he was murmuring over and over again into her ear, and she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck, finding the space where the parka pulled away from skin and planting a kiss there.

And then he pulled away but drew her close to his side, his arm wrapped around her waist so that her body was fitted against his. Suki watched his face, mesmerized, as he clasped Beno's forearm in greeting and nodded with a grin at the hearty cheers and 'welcome back's' of his men.

"My son?" he murmured softly, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Suki shivered as his warm breath caressed her skin, and she clasped his hand tightly in her's before leading him to the now completely finished palace that she called home.

Gran-Gran was at the door, Hakoda wrapped into a tight bundle in her arms. Sokka spared his grandmother a smile, but then his gaze became transfixed on his child. Suki knew what he saw when he looked down at the infant- skin much paler than his own, though still far darker than her's, reddish brown hair, gray-blue eyes. So she watched his face rather than that of their child; watched as his jaw slackened and his eyes softened as he gazed at the life that he had helped to create.

He reached forward suddenly and unwrapped the baby, and little Hakoda wailed at the cold. Sokka ran his big, calloused hands over the small, soft form of the child, carefully counting fingers and toes, inspecting the area between the baby's legs to make sure that all was normal. And then he clumsily wrapped the infant back up again, his hands looking far too big in comparison to the little body of their son.

His eyes were swimming, Suki realized, the blue looking almost crystalline with the liquid that filled them. And suddenly her fears about being a horrible mother were gone, replaced by an incredible, powerful love for the man who was gazing down at her child with such pride and tenderness.

"He's beautiful," Sokka finally murmured softly, in a tone that sounded as if he could not believe that he had created something so wonderful.

"He is," Suki replied, but she was not looking at their son. Sokka must have felt her gaze on him, for he lifted his eyes from their child to her, and Suki could hear the breath catch in his throat.

"Gran-Gran, will you…" Sokka began, but his grandmother nodded with a knowing smile as she rebounded her great grandson properly, and made a shooing motion with one of her hands.

Suki watched her husband's smile widen a fraction, and she took him by both of his hands as she drew him towards the ice elevators. It was somewhat disconcerting to know that the waterbenders who lifted their block of ice knew exactly what was happening, that complete and utter privacy no longer existed in their world. And yet, Suki couldn't quite bring herself to care. Her husband had come home, and La damnit, she didn't care if the entire Southern Water Tribe knew exactly what was happening in their private bedchambers tonight.

She continued to lead him down the hall and into their room, barely noticing when the ice doors knit themselves closed behind them. She stopped in the middle of the room, lifting her hand to touch his face, letting her fingertips trace the familiar plane of his forehead, nose, and lips before winding them into his hair. "You're home," she murmured, standing on tip toe and planting her lips firmly against his, pushing her body close against his form. She felt him stumble forwards, and she fell back onto their bed, his body suddenly on top of hers, his arms braced on either side of her head to keep him from crushing her. He rubbed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss before slowly beginning to undo the laces of her parka.

"I'm home."

--------------------

His past few nights had been spent in Katara's bed. She slept with her head on his chest, her legs twined with his, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Until the nightmares came. Zuko had been having nightmares for quite a while, so he was well acquainted with the terror that accompanied them and could sympathize with his once wife. But when the nightmares came, he did little more than toss and turn in his sleep. Katara, however, thrashed wildly, beating at the pillows with small fists, waking up with a sudden jerk and a piercing scream.

The first time it had happened, he had been in his own bed, fighting his own demons. But then one of Katara's little serving girls had run into his room, had shaken him from his troubled sleep, and informed him that her lady was inconsolable. Zuko had raced to the woman's chambers, pulled her into his arms, and kept her there until his warmth had lulled them both to sleep. She had woken him twice more that night, and twice more he had to wrap her in his embrace and coax her back to slumber.

He had left for the War Chambers early the next morning, and hadn't seen her again until late that night, when he stopped by her rooms to wish her goodnight. He had never intended to stay, but she had held onto his robe like a child and stared up at him with those big blue eyes and begged him to stay with her, to hold her as he had the night before. He had complied.

He had gotten less sleep that he ever had on his own, woken as he was several times each night by her tears and her screams. But he welcomed the dark circles that appeared beneath his eyes, welcomed the exhaustion that seeped into his limbs towards the end of each passing day. His fatigue was merely the price to pay for Katara's nearness.

This night had begun the same as all the previous nights had… Katara had disappeared into the washroom to change into her nightgown while he removed all but his under robe and crawled beneath the covers of her bed. She had emerged a short while later, her hair brushed so that her curls had lost some of their form and her hair had simply become a fluffy mess. And then she had slipped in beside him, rested her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh, and closed her eyes with a murmured goodnight.

And like all the previous nights, Zuko had not been asleep for more than two hours before the thrashing, kicking, and weeping began. She was doing better now at concealing it than she had before- she no longer woke with a startled scream, and often did her best to lay quiet and still after she woke to disturb him as little as possible. He felt her body squirm just a little closer to his, felt her arms wrap around him once the terror had faded away. He rolled over and forced his eyes open, and looked down at where she lay beside him.

Katara's fingers clutched tightly around the fabric of Zuko's tunic, her body pressed flush against his beneath the heavy silk duvet of her bed. Zuko tried to pretend that he didn't see the red rimmed, swollen eyes or the slight quiver of her lips when she gazed up into his face.

Zuko repressed the urge to yawn, and instead wrapped his arms more tightly around the woman's slight form. "Another nightmare?" he murmured, his lips brushing against the flesh of her neck as he spoke. He could feel her nod against his chest, and he brushed a kiss over the crown of her head.

"I can't stop seeing it, Zuko," Katara whispered, her voice choked. She buried her head in his chest, and took in a shuddering breath. "She was so little…she didn't even stand a chance." She swallowed audibly, and then forced herself to draw another breath. "I should have protected her… I should have known that something was wrong with the rice. If I had only been more observant, maybe…"

Zuko propped himself up on one elbow and swiftly pressed his lips against Katara's, forcing her words to come to an end. The kiss was more violent, more desperate than he had intended for it to be, but Katara didn't protest or complain. Rather, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal fervor. The linen bandages around her wrists brushed against Zuko's neck, and he forced himself to forget the day when she had attempted to take her own life.

Finally, Zuko managed to pull away and draw in a gasp of air. "Don't ever say that again," he breathed, his face so close to Katara's that she could feel his warm breath against her forehead. "Even Mai said that the poison was undetectable." He took in another deep breath, and his lips brushed against her forehead, her eyelids, and her nose. "It isn't your fault," he whispered, and then pressed a chaste kiss against her swollen, parted lips. Katara sniffled, and Zuko managed a pain filled, half of a smile. He then slid back down to lay on the bed once more, and Katara rested her head against his shoulder.

Zuko's eyes slowly began to slide closed again, Katara's warmth lulling him into sleep. But then her warmth was gone for a moment, before it settled on top of him. Zuko's eyes opened to see that Katara's hands were planted on either side of his head, her legs straddling his hips. Zuko frowned, and attempted to ignore the surge of adrenaline that rushed through his body in response to the compromising position. "Tara?" he asked softly, his brows bunched in question.

Instead of speaking, Katara closed the gap between them and pressed her lips insistently against his. Zuko's eyes widened when her tongue forced its way into his mouth, and she clamped a hand behind his head to keep him from pulling away. Her other hand drifted from his cheek to his throat, over his collar bone, and down lower and lower until her hand brushed against the area between his pelvic bones.

Zuko quickly wrenched himself away from her and caught her wrists in his hands, his chest heaving. As he struggled to capture his breath, he raised his brows in question. Katara's eyes dropped to her lap, and she drew her lower lip between her teeth to bite back a soft cry. "I just…" Katara shook her head, and then met Zuko's eyes again. "Just please, _please_, make me forget. Even if it's only for a little while," she pleaded, her eyes filling again.

Zuko brushed away her tears with the pad of his thumb, and then pressed his lips against Katara's neck. She shuddered, and her hips moved against his in an involuntary movement.

Zuko swallowed a groan, and rolled them over so that his weight rested on top of her. "This isn't going to fix things, Katara," he warned her, his voice harsh and his breath coming in pants.

Katara wrapped her legs around him in response and lightly nipped at one of his shoulders. Zuko shuddered. "It might fix us," she replied, her eyes sliding closed and her fingers winding their way through his hair. It was longer now than it had once been, and hung down to his shoulders when left unbound.

"Or make things even more complicated," Zuko mumbled, and Katara swiftly kissed him.

"Stop talking," she murmured between kisses, her hands framing his face, her back arched so that her entire body was pressed flush against his. Then, she boldly guided one of his hands to her breasts, and she bit down on his lower lip. "Start touching."

Zuko tried to ignore the fact that tears slid down Katara's face throughout the course of their lovemaking; tried to pretend that they had never been parents, that they had never had anything so precious to lose. He imagined that they were not in a large bed in his palace, but were instead hiding in the forest, far enough from camp so that Sokka wouldn't be able to hear them.

After a time that had seemed eternal yet was infinitely too short, Zuko lifted his trembling body off of Katara's form and lay down on his back. He half expected for the young woman beside him to realize what she had done and run away from him, or scream at him for using her vulnerability to his advantage. She did neither. Instead, she curled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her hair splayed out over his arm. The position was so reminiscent of their first night together that Zuko found he had to fight the urge to cry.

"I love you, Tara," he whispered breathily into her ear, his chest still heaving as he took in deep, ragged breaths. She shuddered against him, and twined her legs with his.

"I love you too," she murmured softly, kissing the skin of his chest where her head was resting, and then she pressed her entire body closer to his.

They were laying so close, so enmeshed within one another that Zuko couldn't tell where she began and he ended. They breathed as one, their inhales and exhales in unison, his breath fluttering her hair and her's cooling the sweat on his chest. He had never felt more comfortable, more complete than he did in that moment, twined around the woman that he loved. And in his post-coital haze, the pain of losing Nozomi almost, almost began to fade.

"I love you," he whispered again, but she had already fallen asleep against him, lost in her own dreams.


	20. Chapter 19

Zuko crumbled the letter in his hands, and then quickly set it aflame. It was the third missive he'd received from Sokka since Nozomi's death, begging him to allow Katara to return home. Sokka believed it was too dangerous for her in the Fire Nation, that she would be as unfortunate as Nozomi had been and would be murdered at the hands of his enemies.

Zuko had replied to the first letter Sokka had sent by saying that Azula had been the one to kill her niece, and since Azula was now dead Katara was in little danger. His assurances hadn't fooled Sokka, however. The Water Tribe Chieftain was smart enough to know that Zuko had made countless enemies in the Fire Nation, especially since he had slowly begun to withdraw troops from all corners of the globe.

The truth was that if someone wanted to strike Zuko where it hurt the most, Katara would be their target. In fact, the woman was in a great deal more danger than Sokka could understand. But Zuko had taken extra precautions to keep her safe. One of her serving maids was always present when the cook prepared her meals, and his own personal taster was ordered to sample a bit of every dish she was served to ensure that she would not be poisoned. He had doubled up the amount of guards who stood outside her door, and hired each man only after having Jee perform a thorough background check. In addition, he had one of his own personal guards shadow her, Jee, and Ryu from a distance at all times. And at night, he was right there in bed beside her, protecting her through her sleep.

He would not hesitate to keep her safe, but he could not, would not, allow her to return to the South Pole. She was his rock, his everything. His first thought in the morning and his last thought before drifting into sleep at night. When he wasn't with her, she was on his mind, and he spent all their time apart longing to have her in his arms. Without having her to turn to at night, to wake up to each morning, the never ending work that being Fire Lord entailed would drive him to the brink of insanity. She kept him sane, kept him whole, kept his heart and hopes alive. He couldn't even begin to imagine what a lonely, cold life he would lead if she was not by his side. So he would keep her there. Always.

"Nephew?" Iroh's voice broke Zuko's reverie, and he started before determinedly looking away from the pile of ash left by the letter and towards his uncle. Iroh's gaze skittered over the ash, but if he noticed the remains of the paper he didn't show it.

"Yes?" Zuko replied curtly, sweeping the ash off his desk in one swift, smooth motion and to the floor where a servant would later clean it up.

"The Earth Kingdom delegates have just docked. What are you planning on doing with them now that you have them here?" he asked, and Zuko cleared his throat before pushing himself out of his chair.

"Have them sent to the throne room," he replied curtly, reaching for his crown. He quickly pulled his unruly hair into it's now habitual top-knot and deftly slid the flame shaped comb into his hair.

"Impressive. You didn't even need to use a mirror," Iroh said with a slight, amused smile and Zuko sighed with a roll of his eyes. He then headed towards the door, but his uncle's hand clamped down on his shoulder, restraining him.

"Lord Bei Fong is among them," he said softly, and Zuko's gut twisted in regret. Mai had told him what had become of Toph, the too smart, too snarky, all together too young little blind girl.

"I'll give him my condolences," Zuko murmured, his throat suddenly too choked to speak any louder or clearer. He remembered what Mai had said … how Azula had burned one of the girl's feet, then the other, leaving the child shrouded in darkness- the only thing she had feared- before killing her. It was a painful, undignified death. "And I'll tell him that she felt no pain," he added in a whisper, hoping that the lie would in some way ease Lord Bei Fong's pain.

And yet, at the same time, he knew his efforts would be futile. He too had lost a daughter. Like Toph, Nimi had been too young, had too much life left before her to die. Perhaps Nimi's death had been some sick sense of justice the Spirits had carried out upon him. Because of him, a man had lost his child. So perhaps it was only just that his daughter should be murdered as well.

Zuko shook his head quickly to chase away the dark thoughts, and cleared his throat before glancing down at his uncle. The man's eyes were kind, soft, and filled with understanding. It pained Zuko to look into them, so he turned away before Iroh could say anything in response.

He stalked through the halls quickly and with purpose, his strides long and sure. Iroh trailed behind him at a slower pace, his constant shadow. As he walked, he forced his mind to go over the treaties he had been busily working on for the past few months. He had worked by candlelight once Katara was fast asleep so that no one would have the chance to spy on or interrupt him. Even Iroh did not know the full extent of his plans. That was probably the reason that the nosy old man was following him so closely.

When he entered the throne room, he debated for a moment whether or not to raise the wall of fire that traditionally separated the Fire Lord from all other sentient life. After a moment's consideration, he decided not to. The flames that separated the Fire Lord from all others were a vestige of a not so distant past, one that promoted the Fire Lord's impenetrable, aloof image. It was time to leave such things in the past, time to show the delegates from the other countries that the Fire Lord himself was just as human as they; like them, he was a man who had been scarred, who had bled, and who had fought and made difficult choices for his friends and family.

He took a seat on his throne on the dais, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and exposed. The platform was meant to remind his subjects that he was the supreme ruler, a man who must be looked up to. In his mind, it merely served to place him on a pedestal in order to expose all of his flaws, and to remind him of all his poor choices.

He glanced to his side and saw Iroh staring at him speculatively, and he quickly squared his shoulders and raised his chin in response to the scrutiny. It was an inborn reaction that made him appear stronger, wiser, more certain than he actually was. It had fooled many before… if only the simple action could fool his own mind as easily as it had others.

There were three sharp raps on the large, ornately carved door, signaling the arrival of the delegates. Zuko took a deep, steadying breath and motioned to a servant to open the doorway. The delegates entered in a swirl of emerald and jade silks, looking composed, defiant, and unified. It was only upon a deeper, more searching glance that one could see the weariness in their eyes, the sorrow etched into their features. A sorrow that was most easily observable in the deeply carved lines on the face of Lord Bei Fong.

"Greetings," Zuko said as they came to stand at the foot of the dais. The only response he received was several stiff bows, and guarded, resentful glances. And then Zuko did something unprecedented. The young Fire Lord stepped off the dais and onto the ground, where the older, more strongly built men all towered over him. He caught the surprise in their faces, and managed a thin, tight lipped smile. "In our grief, we are no longer enemies," he said, his voice soft but strong. He then turned to Lord Bei Fong and dipped his head in a slight, respectful bow. "My condolences. Miss Bei Fong was a lovely child," he said quietly, and he watched in sympathy as the man's jaw locked in pain.

"For the past hundred years, there has nothing but bloodshed. The past three Fire Lords have dedicated their lives perpetuating this bloodshed in the pursuit of power." Zuko paused for a moment, and looked into the eyes of each delegate before continuing. "I refuse to do the same."

Zuko clapped his hands, and a servant rushed to his side, carrying a scroll. With a deep bow, he passed it to Zuko, and the young Fire Lord immediately handed it to Lord Bei Fong. The man eyed him suspiciously before unrolling the scroll and beginning to read. The other delegates crowded around him, and after several moments, they all turned to Zuko, mouths open, eyes wide.

"Is this some sort of trick?" one of the delegates- a thick, bald man asked, his eyes narrowed in speculation. His fellow countrymen continued to pour over the scroll, shaking their heads in disbelief.

"No," Zuko replied softly. "No tricks, no lies. What you read there is my promise to you." Zuko could feel Iroh's eyes boring into his back. No doubt the man was doing everything in his power to hold in his curiosity. The thought made the corners of Zuko's lips twist in amusement.

"I have only a few demands, which you will find listed there. I need there to be open trade routes between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, I need the attacks on the Fire Nation colonists to cease, and for those same colonists to be able to stay in your nation if they so choose. I need to withdraw my troops gradually. In addition, your army must be restricted to the number of people listed in the treaty. Those are my conditions for this war to end. Will you agree?"

Another of the delegates' mouth dropped, and he stared at Zuko. "That is all? No reparations? No territories? Just _trade_? And a smaller army?"

"Annexing your territories will only incite rebellion and spark a new war. Trade, however, secures the Fire Nation presence in your country in a non violent way, and will benefit both of our economies in this troubled time. I am well aware that your currency has almost become completely worthless, and that many can barely even afford to buy a loaf of bread." Zuko did not tell them that he knew this from firsthand experience, that he had felt hunger wrench his gut alongside the peasants of the Earth Kingdom. "My nation's economy is based upon war, and at its end, I will have thousands of soldiers jobless and hundreds of factories out of work. Extensive trade will eventually solve both of our countries' problems."

"And what of your demand that we and the Water Tribe are forbidden contact?" The same delegate asked, and Zuko barely suppressed a wince.

"Revoked. You may trade with them as well, but as you can see in that treaty there, the Fire Nation will have the monopoly."

A tall, sinewy delegate stared at Zuko and shook his head in amazement. "And here we thought we were sailing to our deaths…" he murmured, and Zuko managed a grimace of a smile.

"You will find that I do not have the same blood-lust as my father."

"And yet you killed the twelve year old Avatar," Lord Bei Fong replied, and a panicked murmur of sound ran through the assembled delegates. They stared at the man in horror, but he merely leveled a cold, angry stare at Zuko.

A stab of guilt ran through him, hot and painful, and Zuko could feel Iroh's concern; could sense that his uncle was restraining himself from helping him reply properly to Lord Bei Fong. "If you had to choose between watching your daughter be murdered, or killing the avatar, what would you choose?" he replied softly, too softly for the other delegates to hear.

"I was never given the privilege of making that choice. My daughter was killed as a result of another man's selfishness," he hissed, and Zuko met the man's angry gaze.

"And mine is dead as a result of a woman's ambition," Zuko replied, and Lord Bei Fong's eyes widened. "And it was hardly a privilege to choose between the freedom of the world and the death of my wife and child. Be grateful that it wasn't your choice to make." He made sure his voice was hard as steel, but he knew his eyes were full of grief.

Zuko didn't say everything that was in his heart at the moment. He wanted to remind Lord Bei Fong that he was only eighteen, that he had just barely become a man, that he was more of a child than anything else. He wanted to say that it wasn't fair that he had been forced to grow up so quickly, that he had lost his daughter and had been forced to kill a child in order to save his young wife. He wanted to ask if Lord Bei Fong could have endured what he had when he was merely eighteen; wanted to demand whether or not the man had even had so much responsibility when he had been so young. But he did not. He merely stood with his shoulders squared, his jaw set, pain flashing through his eyes.

He saw Lord Bei Fong staring at him for a long time, sizing him up, attempting to determine whether or not he was genuine. After several long moments, the Earth Kingdom delegate set the scroll down, and signed his name beneath the words of the treaty with a flourish. Zuko managed a tight lipped smile, withdrew his quill, and signed his name beside Toph's father's. The other delegates stared between he and Lord Bei Fong in amazement for several moments before they each in turn signed their names to the treaty as well.

Zuko then lifted the scroll and held it out to Iroh, and his uncle hurried over, tears of pride shining in his eyes. He took the scroll reverently in his hands, and stared down at it, doing all he could not to cry. Zuko rested a long, slim hand on his uncle's shoulder, and gave him a wide, true, smile.

"Go home," he said, turning to the delegates. "Go home, and let the Earth Kingdom know that the war is over."

-----------------

Katara gripped the edges of the porcelain basin, and vomited for the fifth morning in a row that week. Kin was behind her, holding her hair out of her face, murmuring soft words of comfort as she stroked her back. Finally, Katara withdrew from the basin, dizzy and clammy, and rested her head against Kin's breast. The older woman rocked her back and forth, and finally Katara was able to open her eyes and force herself to her feet. Kin gestured for the two younger serving maids to help her, but Katara brushed them off before collapsing on her chaise with a groan.

She hadn't had her moon time since her capture, but she had always assumed it was just due to the stress of losing the war and the fact that pain and sorrow had been her constant companions for the past several months. But now… Katara knew deep in her bones that she was pregnant. Kin had insisted upon performing the standard Fire nation pregnancy test, in which Katara was forced to urinate over barley seeds for several days in a row and pray to La that they didn't sprout, but she knew the truth without seeing the results. She was a healer, and due to that she was well acquainted with all the symptoms of pregnancy. The sprouted barley seeds on her windowsill merely served to confirm her fears.

Katara felt the sting of tears enter her eyes, and she blinked them away furiously. She could not break down now, not again. But a baby… Her adopted daughter had just been murdered in order to get to the Fire Lord. How much more danger was her biological child in? The poor, innocent baby that grew within her would be that much more of a target because of the degree of hate the Fire Nation Court harbored for her. Despite herself, tears leaked out of her eyes and she pressed her fist to her mouth to suppress a cry. How was she to protect her child when the cards were stacked against them? How was she to keep an infant safe when it would be born with a target on its back?

"There are other ways, My Lady," Kin murmured softly as she came to kneel beside Katara. "I know of herbs that could put an end to your unfortunate condition. It wouldn't hurt, not with how early you are into it. All that would happen is that your monthly would come… some cramping, some bleeding… and then all of this will be taken care of. You won't have to worry."

Katara's eyes widened and she stared at Kin in horror. She clutched her still flat stomach, and shook her head violently. "No! No, this is my _baby._ It's not a condition! It's not something I can just get rid of!"

Kin took her mistress' hands in her own and looked deeply into the girl's blue eyes. Katara squirmed a little bit when she saw the genuine concern and fear that Kin was looking at her with. "Do you want to watch another child of yours die?" she asked softly, and Katara's breath hitched in her throat. "Because that is what will happen. You will carry this baby, birth it, nurse it, and love it more than you will have ever dreamed possible... perhaps even more that you loved Nozomi. And then one day, you will hold a stone cold, blue faced child to your breast, and you will know pain as you have never known it before."

Katara stared at Kin, tears now streaming down her cheeks. There was something tempting in Kin's words, in knowing that she could avoid the inevitable by doing the unspeakable now. But she would always wonder if the child she so callously bled out would have been a boy or girl, if he or she had inherited Zuko's eyes, if it would have had Sokka's sometimes keen intelligence or her father's courage. For the rest of her life, she would wonder what could have been; would picture a dark haired, blue eyed infant in her mind, and wonder what kind of person he or she would have grown into.

"I can't," she whispered hoarsely, knowing in her heart that she had made the decision to birth and love a child that was sure to die before ever being given the chance to live. "I can't be the one to murder my child."

She could feel Kin searching her eyes for a moment before the older woman nodded her head in acceptance and squeezed Katara's hands tightly. "As you wish," the woman said softly, and lightly kissed the top of Katara's head.

Kin then stepped away silently, leaving Katara alone on the chaise, her slender, dark hands rubbing circles over her still flat belly. Catching sight of something out of the corner of her eye, Katara turned her head, only to be distracted by the large window that dominated the Western facing wall of her room. It was late spring; summer had nearly returned to the Fire Nation, and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. The small, powder pink blossoms would survive for just another week and would then die, their beauty nothing but a distant memory. And when the cherry blossoms had gone, the anniversary of the Day of the Black Sun would be upon them.

Katara bit her lip and closed her eyes, remembering where she had been merely one short year ago. She had been a child then, a child who had been hopelessly in love and terrified as to what to do with her emotions. A year ago to the day, she and the gang had been living in the rooms above Ye Zhi's tea house, doing their best to blend into the fabric of the Fire Nation. How simple things had been then, how happy.

Katara recalled eating late night dinners together as a family once the shop had closed; remembered the time when Sokka and Toph had begun to throw rice at each other while in the midst of a particularly heated disagreement. Iroh had immediately rescued the tea pot from being hit, while Aang roared with laughter when he saw rice stuck in Sokka's hair. Suki had been laughing as well as she tried to pick the stuff out of Sokka's coarse mane, until Toph hit her in the shoulder with a ball of sticky rice. At that point, Suki had drawn on her talents as a Kyoshi warrior and had pelted the blind girl mercilessly with any type of food she could find. Nozomi had been squealing and waving her arms in the air; Zuko chuckling as he helped to hold his little girl upright as she flailed her arms. And all the while Katara had desperately been trying to quiet everyone down and put an end to the food fight. And then Hana, Ye Zhi's bitter old crank pot of a wife had come up the stairs and had yelled at them furiously, her pallid face turning redder than the Fire Nation emblem with rage. And once she had gone, Sokka had imitated her, scrunching his face up and yelling in a high, superior, crackly voice. The group had dissolved into hysterics then, holding onto one another as they laughed until they could scarcely breathe.

Katara longed for those days.

She never would have guessed then that three of the people sitting at that table would lose their lives in the next year. She had thought, in her childish idealism, that they would win the war. Oh, she had been scared, of course. She had realized that they might not all make it through. But she had believed deep down in her bones that they were going to win; that dinners like that one in the tea house would occur every night, that they would always have each other. What a fool she had been. What a simple, pathetic little fool.

And here she sat today, a short year later, her ideals and dreams shattered. Two of her best friends dead, her daughter murdered, divorced and disgraced, pregnant out of wedlock by a man who could never legally recognize her children as his own.

If fate had been kind, her life could have been so different. She could have rejoiced when she learned of her pregnancy, could have run and told her husband and been swept up into his embrace. But Katara had learned that fate was neither kind nor just. It was a cruel and fickle thing; it had no sympathy for the brokenhearted, and it showed no mercy to the weary.

Her life had been like that of the cherry blossoms blooming out her window… beautiful for a short period of time. And it was over before it had truly had a chance to begin.

-------------

Mai stood before her mirror, staring at her reflection as her servant continued to hurry about, putting the final touches on her hair and fussing with her robes. She wore a black silk kimono that had been embroidered with thousands of tiny pink cherry blossoms, and at the center of each cherry blossom a seed pearl had been stitched. The sash cinched tightly about her waist was a shade of pale pink as well, and had been embroidered with a delicate pattern of silver thread. Her hair had been pinned up in an elegant chignon, sakura blossoms woven into the braids, and hairpins that sported rose quartz and pearls were used to hold the black mass in place.

Mai resisted the urge to crinkle her nose at her reflection. She hated pink, she hated flowers, and she hated the restrictive nature of the kimono that she was forced to wear for the sakura festival. She hated the pink paint that had been used on her lips and cheeks, hated the kohl that lined her eyes in an attempt to make the narrow slits look wider and prettier.

Mai slapped away her servant's fussing hands and quickly reached for one of her daggers. The girl cowered away from her mistress, and Mai resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the fool. Rather, she slipped the sheathed dagger into the wide, constrictive sash her mother had ordered her to wear, and smiled slightly when she felt the shape of the cold metal dig into her ribcage.

"Mai! Mai!" Mai resisted the urge to cringe when she heard her friend's bright, overly excited voice coming from just outside the door. "Aren't you ready yet? We have to go! What's taking you so long?" There was a pause, and Mai looked into her mirror so that she could see where Ty Lee stood behind her.

The girl was dressed head to toe in pink, as per usual. Her kimono was a pale pink, embroidered with cherry blossoms in a shade of darker pink. She had sparkling pink ornaments in her hair, pink paint on her face, pink stain on her fingernails, and a necklace of pink crystals around her throat. Mai had to resist the urge to groan.

"You're wearing black," Ty Lee finally said, her face contorted into a deep frown. "This is the sakura festival! You can't wear _black_ to a sakura festival!"

Mai rolled her eyes and plucked a leather strap from her drawer before pushing up one of the sleeves of her kimono and fastening the strap around her bare arm. From there she loaded several knives into sheaths on the strap before pushing her sleeve back down and smoothing the wrinkles out once again. "I like black," she replied simply, meeting Ty Lee's wide gray eyes in the mirror.

She heard Ty Lee huff in disapproval, and she reached down to pick up a pair of fingerless gloves that hid her stilettos, but Ty Lee's hand clamped down on her arm. "We're going to a festival. Not to war. You don't need those. Besides, your hands are too pretty to cover up!" the girl exclaimed, and Mai sighed as her friend grabbed both of her hands. "They would look so much prettier if you'd polish your nails. I wish you'd let me paint them!"

"I don't like paint," Mai replied stiffly, and Ty Lee rolled her eyes before dropping Mai's hands. The girl skipped over to Mai's bed, and perched herself at the edge of it so as not to muss her dress. Mai felt her friend's eyes on her, and she sighed before hiking her dress up to her hip and strapping another row of knives to her thigh.

"That's attractive," Ty Lee said dryly, and Mai's mouth twitched into a smile.

"I rather think so," she replied, and her smile widened a fraction when she saw Ty Lee roll her eyes.

"You're missing something," the pink clad girl said after a moment, and then hopped over to Mai's jewelry case. She began to rummage through it, her little pink tongue poking out through her pink lips in concentration. Finally, she lifted something with a little cry of triumph and turned back to Mai. "Close your eyes," she ordered, and Mai raised her brows. Ty Lee huffed out a sigh and stomped her foot. "Just close your eyes, will you?" she exclaimed, and the corners of Mai's mouth twitched as she obeyed.

She felt metal slide through her ears, and suddenly her head felt a bit heavier than it had just moments before. "Okay! Open!" Ty Lee exclaimed, and Mai did.

A pair of large, teardrop shaped pearls dangled from her ears, picking up on the pearls in her kimono and her hair and somehow completing the ensemble.

"Oh! See! I knew it! I knew that would do the trick! Zuko won't be able to keep his eyes off of you!" Ty Lee exclaimed, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands together with excitement.

Mai suddenly felt ice curl its way around her heart and flood through her veins. Zuko was acting as her escort to the festival all that week, but Mai knew that while he may be standing beside her, he would never truly be with her. She chuckled darkly and shook her head, her earrings bouncing against her long, slim neck as she did so. "Zuko doesn't even see me," she replied, and she very nearly cringed when she saw Ty Lee's eyes widen and fill with tears.

"Oh, Mai! I…" Ty Lee began, but Mai cut her off with a quick, sharp gesture.

"Never mind. We won't speak of it again. But the Fire Lord will be here shortly. I must be ready for him when he arrives," Mai said curtly before sweeping out of her room, Ty Lee trailing close behind her. Mai hurried down the stairs of her father's villa, her shoulders straight and her head held high. Her parents were already waiting in the foyer, her mother resplendent in a gold kimono stitched with cherry blossoms, small rubies stitched into the centers of the blossoms, hanging in a thick rope about her throat, and glittering in her dark hair. Her father stood at her mother's elbow, cutting a dashing figure as he held her little brother's hand. They appeared to be the perfect Fire Nation family… the ideal that Mai had never quite fit into.

Her mother turned to look at her, and her face fell. "Black," the woman said, disappointment creeping into her voice. "Couldn't you have at least worn silver?"

Mai sighed, and her father pinned a dark glare on her mother before turning back to look her over. "You look fine," he said gruffly, and then turned his head away from her to look down adoringly at his son and heir, who was busily attempting to pluck something from his nose.

Mai sighed and moved to stand beside her mother, who looked Mai up and down before huffing out a sigh, shaking her head, and looking pointedly away from her daughter. "I just don't understand you," the woman muttered under her breath, and Mai composed her face in a placid mask to hide how deeply her mother's disapproval stung her.

"Nor I you," she replied softly, looking straight ahead.

The tension in the room was cut when a servant scurried in and bowed low to the family, before turning to the entrance to their home. "His majesty the Fire Lord has arrived!" he announced, and two bodyguards in full armor marched in ahead of Zuko. Zuko stood in the full Fire Nation regalia, and his gaze swept over the family once before he bowed his head to Mai's father.

"Joy to your family in this ephemeral time," he said, the traditional greeting given during the Sakura festival.

"Happiness and Strength to yours," her father replied with a deep bow, and then he reached around his wife to take Mai's hand. "My daughter," he said, pulling her forward and placing her hand within Zuko's. Mai swallowed when she felt the warmth of Zuko's long fingers encase her slim hand, and she did her best to keep a blush from rising to her cheeks. From the heat she felt in her ears, however, she knew she had failed.

Zuko drew her forward, and Mai met his golden eyes with her own dark ones as she did her best to suppress the flush in her face. "You look lovely," he said formally, his gaze never leaving her face. Mai's heart sunk at the words. He had barely looked at her; he was just paying her a compliment to be polite.

She bowed her head to him in response, and when she spoke she ensured that the lump in her throat was well masked. "You look fine as well, My Lord," she replied, her gaze firmly planted on the floor. She turned to her family, and looked at some point over her father's shoulder as she spoke. "Perhaps I will see you at the festival, Father," she said, and he nodded.

"Perhaps," he replied, and that was all.

Zuko led her from her home into his litter, and she reclined on the pillows beside him. Her heart was hammering in her chest at Zuko's proximity to her, and she cursed herself. _You silly, foolish girl! You know that he is in love with someone else! How can you let yourself react to him like this?_

"Thank you," Zuko murmured softly from his place beside her, startling her from her self depreciating thoughts. Mai raised her brows in question, and Zuko smiled a little. "For agreeing to go with me. I know you may have wanted to spend the night with your friends instead…"

"What friends?" Mai murmured softly in response, her chest suddenly beginning to ache. "Since childhood I have had exactly two friends. One of them is dead. The other prefers to spend her time flirting and dancing with all of the eligible boys at the festival. I am perfectly happy spending my evening with you."

"I'm sorry… about Azula. I know you two were close."

"There is no need to apologize," Mai cut in quickly, and she could feel Zuko's gaze on her. "It was in your rights as a father to avenge your daughter's death. She deserved all that came to her," she said, her mouth feeling like cotton as she uttered the words. She knew in her head that Azula deserved death, but in her heart… in her heart she still cried out at how unfair it was that a mistreated child had been murdered.

"You knew?" Zuko asked softly, and Mai pushed aside bitter thoughts of Azula and refocused her attention on the man she loved.

"Of course I knew."

Zuko made a little noise in the back of his throat, and the pair rode in silence for a while. At one point in their travel, one of the men carrying the litter stumbled, and Mai fell into Zuko's chest. She quickly righted herself, but her face and body were warm for the remainder of their short journey. It was the noise that alerted Mai to their arrival at the heart of the festival. Crowds were cheering, and laughter and music rang through the air.

"Time to make an appearance," Zuko murmured dryly once the litter had come to a stop, and Mai let out a soft sigh as Zuko climbed out of the litter and then extended his hand to her.

"If we must," she replied blankly, accepting his hand and gracefully descending from the litter to the paved streets. Pink lanterns were strung everywhere, casting their rosy glow on the earth around them, and illuminating the thousands of Sakura trees that bloomed all down the streets. Hundreds of booths were set up, each selling some trinket or special treat specifically related to the festival. Children ran in every which way, flying lit kites in the shapes of cherry blossoms. Their squeals and laughter filled the air, and Mai felt Zuko's hand clench painfully around her elbow.

She looked up at him and saw his face contorted in pain as his eyes trailed the movements of a young child, her dark curls flying out behind her as she tried to run after what must have been her older sister. _Nozomi_. The name reverberated in her skull and she felt her gut wrench in sympathy for the man that stood beside her.

"You must not think of that now," she said softly enough so that only Zuko would be able to hear her. When he turned to look at her, his eyes were misty, and she felt her heart break for him. But then he cleared his throat, locked his jaw, and nodded his head before moving forwards.

People stopped and stared at the Fire Lord and the pale lady upon his arm, and Mai knew it was only a matter of time before the rumors spread that he had finally taken up a proper interest in a Lady of his own breed, a woman worthy of his affections. When Zuko stopped by a booth to order her a cup of sakurayu (a drink made of salt pickled cherry blossoms steeped in hot water), and then later stopped to wipe her face after she had eaten a sakuramochi (a sweet treat made of red bean paste, rice cake, and topped with the leaf of a Sakura tree), Mai knew that people would speak of how considerate he was of her needs, how devoted he was to her. And for a few brief, heady hours, Mai allowed herself to be fooled by his kindness, allowed herself to pretend that his affection for Katara had truly begun to wane, and that he had begun to fall in love with her.

And then she saw her. The girl was laughing with two of her guards, her long brown curls pinned back in such a way that they were out of her face, but able to fall freely down her back in a thick, beautiful mass that Mai envied with all her heart. Her face was only lightly painted, but the girl needed no paint, beautiful as she was. Especially when she smiled. She was dressed in a kimono that somehow managed to accentuate all of her generous curves- curves that Mai was desperately lacking.

But more importantly, she saw Zuko's face when he saw her. She saw his mouth open, his eyes soften, his entire body lean forward in a way that spoke of how much he longed to touch her. He had told Mai with his mouth that she looked lovely. He told Katara with his eyes that she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

He caught himself and quickly turned away from his mistress, looking down to Mai and asking her if she wanted to watch a play. She had forced a smile and told him that she would love to, and had spent the rest of the night on Zuko's arm, looking to all the world as if she was the object of his affections.

But she knew better. He didn't even see her.


	21. Chapter 20

"Something's wrong with her," Zuko murmured softly as he moved his pai sho piece into place on the board. Generally, he wouldn't have wanted to waste valuable time sitting and losing at an old man's game, but he was troubled. When he was confused and troubled, nothing was able to clear his mind quite like a conversation with his uncle. So if Iroh wanted to plat pai sho, Zuko was willing to suffer through an hour or so of it. "She's acting… differently."

Iroh raised a bushy gray brow. "How so?"

"I don't know. I can't…I can't put it into words. There's just something different about her. Something's not right. I can tell that there's something bothering her, something that she's thinking about, but she won't tell me what it is. When I ask her to, she tells me I'm imagining things."

"And are you imagining things?" Iroh asked, studying the board for a moment before making his move. He then sat back with a slight smile on his face, pleased with himself.

"Of course I'm not imagining things! I know her, Uncle! I know what every facial expression means, I know the emotion behind every tone of her voice. And there is something wrong! She's hiding something from me!"

"Well what can she be hiding from you? Those guards of hers watch her like a hawk, and they report the most boring, mundane moments of her life to you. You should know everything that goes on."

"Do I detect disapproval in your voice?" Zuko asked dryly, glancing up at his uncle. When he saw Iroh shrug, he sighed. "It's the only way to keep her safe."

"The girl has no privacy, Zuko. Maybe that's what's wrong with her. Maybe she's just upset with you for putting guard dogs around her day and night," Iroh replied, and Zuko shook his head.

"Only during the day. I guard her at night."

"And don't you think that's equally smothering?"

Zuko sighed harshly and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this with you again, Uncle. You know she's in danger. I will not let her die. Not like…" Zuko trailed off, his throat closing up and preventing him from speaking his daughter's name.

His mind wandered to the little girl he had seen at the festival a week before, thought about her dark curls and her sweet laughter, and he thought about how much Nozomi would have loved the glowing lanterns and the fire works and the sweet treats sold at every booth. She should have been there, should have gotten her face covered with sakuramochi, should have squealed with laughter during the plays and stared up, mesmerized, at the fire works.

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "I won't let it happen. Not again. And this is the only way I can protect her."

Iroh was silent for a long time, and when he spoke, Zuko's blood turned to ice in his veins. "There is another way."

"No uncle!" Zuko exploded, standing up so quickly that he knocked over the pai sho table. "I am not sending her back to that Agni-forsaken, snow covered wasteland!"

Iroh raised a brow, and Zuko shook his head violently. "She stays here with me! This is where she belongs! She will stay, and she will be happy, and she will be safe!"

"And will you force her to be happy, Zuko? Will you deprive her of all her privacy in an attempt to keep her safe? An attempt, I must point out, that is likely to fail. It is not fair to her, Zuko. If you truly love her you will send her away." He reached out to place his hand on his nephew's shoulder, but Zuko shook him off.

"That makes no sense. If you love someone, you don't send them away from you! You keep them close!"

Iroh sighed and shook his head slowly. "No, Zuko. That is not love. That is selfishness. And it is that very same selfishness that got you into this mess to begin with." He reached out and put his meaty hands on his nephew's shoulder, and this time, Zuko didn't pull away. "Sometimes, love is letting someone go."

"I can't let her go," Zuko replied miserably after several moments of silence, and Iroh sighed before shaking his head slowly- the shake of his head that meant he was disappointed. The gesture made Zuko cringe.

"Then you do not love her."

Zuko opened his mouth to retort, but a knock at the door cut off his reply. "Enter!" Zuko called out shortly, his anger and frustration with his uncle seeping into his voice.

"I beg your pardon, My Lord, but I humbly request an audience."

Zuko glanced up, and saw Mai's father on his knees before him. Seeing the man simply annoyed him even more deeply, and he turned to his uncle.

"Governor Anzu," Iroh said with a bow. "To what does my nephew owe the honor of your presence?' he asked, his tone genial, although he glared at Zuko in such a way that the Fire Lord knew he was to mask his frustration and treat his friend's father with deference.

"General Iroh," Mai's father replied, getting up off of his knees and lifting his head to look at Iroh. "I'm afraid what I have come to discuss is a private matter. If you wouldn't mind…?" he asked with a slight lift of his brow.

Iroh nodded, giving the governor an understanding smile, and then rested his hand on Zuko's shoulder. Quickly, he leaned close to his nephew. "Do not think as a man, Zuko, but as the Fire Lord," he murmured so softly that only Zuko could hear before pushing his ample girth away from the Fire Lord and walking out the door.

Zuko stared after his uncle, swallowing hard, before looking back at Mai's father. "Governor," he said with a slight incline of his head, before he took a seat behind his desk. "What can I do for you? I know your family has suffered since Omashu was reclaimed… Have you come to petition me for a new title?"

'New Ozai," Governor Anzu corrected, and Zuko's mouth drew into a thin line.

"The city's rightful name is Omashu. It has been for centuries," he replied tightly, remembering green eyes and the weight of a boulder in his hands.

Governor Anzu bowed his head again. "My apologies, My Lord. I did not come here to discuss the war with you, nor did I come to discuss my position." At this point, the governor held out a scroll to Zuko. "I came to discuss this."

Zuko eyed the scroll warily, and then he quickly took it from the governor's outstretched hand. Upon unrolling the scroll, his heart stopped. "The marriage contract," he breathed, and was suddenly glad that he was seated.

"You father signed this contract, and since the contract was unfulfilled upon his death, it became null and void. However… You will still be needing a Fire Lady. My daughter has impeccable blood lines, and has been trained in the hopes that one day she would be able to fulfill this position. My wife and your mother used to talk about all this when you were merely children. I believe it would be within your best interests to sign this marriage contract yourself."

Zuko chuckled darkly as he stared at the contract in front of him. The contract that he had narrowly escaped once and thus was able to salvage his relationship with Katara. "In my best interests, Governor? Or in yours?" he replied, and the man simply stared at him.

"Mai would make a wonderful Fire Lady, as you well know. Furthermore, she would make a good wife, and enable your future children to keep their bloodlines pure." There was a pleased ring to his voice, and Zuko knew it had something to do with the thought of his grandchildren one day sitting on the Fire Nation throne.

Zuko breathed in hard through his nose and was on the verge of shouting 'No!' when he remembered what his uncle had said only minutes before. _Do not think as a man, but as a Fire Lord._ Could he ever marry Katara? While the man in him cried out to do so, the Fire Lord knew it was impossible. Not only was she not of Fire Nation blood, but she was also a captive of war and his mistress. Their marriage would only result in another civil war.

And he did need a Fire Lady, someone who could manage the court with more finesse than he. He was a military man, not a spoiled, pampered, courtly one. He did not have the mind or the patience for cleverly spoken words and hiding his hatred behind a benevolent smile. Mai did. And she was good at it.

Furthermore, he needed legitimate heirs, heirs that Katara would never be able to provide him. He needed a son of fire who would be able to reign over the nation once he died. Mai could give him that.

Zuko took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "Yes, yes, she would," he replied softly, and then he swallowed hard. With shaking hands, he dipped a quill into ink and signed the document as quickly as he could. "Scribe!" he called and a small man hurried over to his side, retrieved the scroll from his hand, and blotted and dried the ink before handing it back to him with a low bow.

The look on governor's Anzu's face was one of sheer excitement, and Zuko was aware that the man had just reached the pinnacle of his political career. "Give your daughter my best," he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "And tell your wife that she may begin planning the engagement party. I will ask the Sages to find an auspicious date."

The governor bowed multiple times, barely able to conceal his joy. "Thank you, Highness. Thank you!" He exclaimed, before turning and walking out of Zuko's study quicker than was dignified.

Alone once again, Zuko let out a deep sigh and rested his head on his desk, spent. His heart was heavy, his mind troubled. Just as things had gotten better with Katara, just as they had turned a corner… Fire lord Zuko missed the freedom of acting as a mere man.

---------------

The sun had yet to rise, and the palace halls were shrouded in darkness. Mai slid through the shadows, her robes making the barest whisper of a sound upon the stones as she moved. The servants had just begun to stir, and the few that she passed cast her strange glances at seeing a Lady of Fire up at such an early hour. Mai paid them no heed, and instead she clutched the offering she held tighter in her hand.

Her father had informed her the night before that Zuko had decided to uphold the marriage contract that Ozai had drafted in the weeks before his death. Her mother had burst into tears and embraced her, exclaiming that Mai would be the Fire Lady, that she would get her fairy tale ending. But Mai had stood still and silent, her face going even paler and her hands hanging limp at her sides. Zuko did not love her, would never love her, and would cling to Katara until the day he died. Zuko would enter her bed reluctantly, and only for purpose of producing an heir.

She was going to live her mother's life.

She had sat through supper listening to her mother's excited chattering; suffering under her father's calculating and scheming glances. She knew what this meant for him, knew that he would attempt to use her to push his own self interests before the Fire Lord. She knew what it meant for her mother too- that for the first time in her life, the woman would be above reproach by the other old biddies of the Fire Nation court. She hadn't spoken a word, hadn't eaten a bite of her meal. Her parent's hadn't noticed.

That night she had dismissed all of her servants, crawled into bed, and stared up at the ceiling for hours. She hadn't slept a wink; she had merely prayed. She had clasped her hands until her knuckles turned white and squeezed her eyes closed and begged Agni to put even the smallest trace of love for her in Zuko's heart. She had chanted the words like a mantra all night: _Please let Zuko love me, please let Zuko love me, please let Zuko love me. _

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she had risen from her bed, dressed, combed her hair and painted her face long before the sun had begun it's climb into the sky. She had then withdrawn a small pouch of incense from one of the drawers in her vanity, and slipped that as well as a few small gold coins into the palm of her hand. Prayers alone would not be enough. Spirits knew the gods never listened to prayers. She needed to make an offering.

And so it was that she was headed towards the temple at an ungodly hour with the servants staring at her like she was a lunatic. Mai held in the urge to let out a shuddering sigh, and instead she straightened her shoulders and quickened her pace.

The temple on the palace grounds was smaller than it had been in years past, decayed and aged. Since the time of Sozin, the rulers of the Fire Nation had all but forsaken Agni in their quest to improve their technology and increase their power. As a result, the vast majority of the temples in the nation had a shortage of priests and had fallen into disrepair; the one that was meant for the personal use of the Fire Lord and his close companions was no different.

As Mai reached it she noted the differences here than in the rest of the palace- the structure was obviously old, and though it was cared for by gardeners and the like, it held the obvious appearance of age. Portions of the temple had been sectioned off to use as an armory of sorts, the solid gold door that had once been there had been melted down to provide funds for the war. Only one priest was ever present- _if _he was ever present. Most of the time, he was elsewhere in the palace, growing fat on the sweetmeats and breads that the kitchens had to offer.

It was common knowledge that Ozai had never come here during his reign, and she knew for a fact that Zuko hadn't stepped foot within the walls since his mother's disappearance. Neither had anyone in the court for that matter, except for the very old, the very sick, and the very troubled. What a sad state of affairs, Mai thought, that Agni had lost his foothold with the Royals. But who was she to criticize, she realized. She couldn't even remember the last time that she had prayed.

The door was already ajar when Mai reached it, so she pushed it open just a fraction more as slowly and gently as possible as to avoid the squeak of old hinges. She slipped within once the gap was wide enough for her slim body to fit through and didn't bother to shut the door behind her. It didn't matter if she left it open; no one came near this place, anyways, except for the occasional pair of lovers who used the seclusion to their advantage.

Once she was within, however, she quickly realized that she was not alone and so she darted into the shadows silently to observe the fellow worshipper. At first she didn't recognize the girl who was kneeling before the altar because her view was partially obstructed by a column, so she quietly slid a few steps over to get a better view. Then, her eyes went wide.

Zuko's little water tribe mistress- _Katara_- was kneeling down before a foreign God, weeping, wringing her hands together in distress. She was pleading in a foreign language, one that Mai had never heard before. The sounds were almost guttural, completely lacking in sophistication and elegance. And yet there was something about the cadence of the words that was calming, comforting, and gentle. A strange language- one that couldn't be described as beautiful, and yet it was.

Her handmaid was there, and guard dogs were present as well; Jee and Ryu, if Mai remembered correctly. They were standing a distance away from the water tribe girl, but their heads were also bowed in prayer along with their mistress. Mai suddenly felt a stab of jealousy course through her; her handmaidens and guards didn't care about her, not enough to accompany her to the temple to pray, anyways. But then… she was not nearly as kind as Katara was either, Mai knew. It was one of the many reasons that the water tribe girl would always be first in her intended's heart.

She gripped her offering in her hand even tighter and brought it up to her heart. _Please, Agni. Please let Zuko love me. If only just a little bit. Please._

A sudden gagging noise drew Mai away from her fervent silent prayer, and she glanced up just in time to see Katara retch into a clay basin that her handmaiden had suddenly supplied. The girl was shuddered violently as she hunched over the basin, and the handmaiden held the girl's hair and gently stroked her back until the heaving had stopped and Katara had fallen back against the woman's breast. One of the guards quickly stepped forward and took the basin away, tossing its contents out the back door before quickly returning.

_She's dying,_ was Mai's first thought, her eyes widening in a combination of shock and horror. She must be ill, ill enough to leave her room with her hair in disarray and nothing but a sleep robe, ill enough to weep at the feet of an idol of a foreign god, ill enough to retch in front of her servants like a peasant would.

But then she saw Katara lower her hand to her belly and rub it, not with a look of pain on her face, but rather one of affection. The handmaiden helped her to her feet and straightened the girl's hair before lightly kissing her check and squeezing both of her hands. Katara turned to the altar again and bowed deeply, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Please," she whispered brokenly, and wiped away the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks again. Then, she turned and swept out of the temple, followed closely by her handmaiden and her guards.

Mai waited several moments to ensure that the party was gone before slipping out of the shadows and heading over to the altar. She glanced over the offerings that Katara had left with a shrewd eye- several gold coins to placate and please Agni, some incense to profess his divinity, and a lock of hair for protection. In addition, there was a braided scarlet cord; Mai could not remember what purpose that item was supposed to serve.

All at once, it hit her, and she gasped. Several years before, when her mother had been pregnant with Tom-Tom, she had been dragged to temple so that she could support her mother while she made an offering. The woman had placed a braided scarlet cord on the altar to ask for the protection of her unborn child.

Mai thought back to how moments before Katara had vomited and then rubbed her stomach tenderly. The scarlet cord. Morning sickness. Katara was pregnant. All at once Mai felt sick, and not for the reasons that she would have expected. She thought back to Nozomi's murder, remembered how empty Zuko's eyes were, how broken Katara's expression when she had stumbled across her at the funeral. It was going to happen all over again.

Mai quickly placed her offering on the altar and knelt before it, bowing her head so that it was level with the ground as she did so. And for the first time in her life, Mai whispered a fervent prayer for someone besides herself.

* * *

The anniversary of the Day of the Black Sun dawned bright and beautiful. Katara laid in her bed staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking out the windows. A year ago today, she'd curled closer to her husband, terrified of the battle to come. He'd held her close, kissed the top of her head, and told her that come this time tomorrow, everyone would be laughing about how easy the battle had been. And then she'd lifted their sleeping child and cuddled her close to her body.

How much a year could change… Where she'd once had her entire life ahead of her, she was now divorced, disgraced, and pregnant out of wedlock, a prisoner to the man that she loved in spite of herself. Her friends were dead, her brother and nephew lived a continent away. How could her life be filled with such promise one morning, and be at an end just three hundred sixty five days later?

Katara sighed and closed her eyes. The palace was abuzz with activity; the servants were preparing the banquet hall for the feast that was to commemorate the Fire Nation winning the war. Despite the thick walls, she was able to hear the excited chattering of those in the hallways every time Kin, Jee, Ryu, or one of the servants opened the doors. She didn't feel like breathing, much less moving.

One year ago today, her father died. Toph had died. Aang had died. While the Fire Nation was celebrating, she was in mourning. Katara rolled onto her stomach and buried her head in her pillows. The spirits-forsaken nation was probably going to burn effigies of her friends in its merry making. There was no way she was leaving her rooms this afternoon.

Strange how history could be re-written by the victors. How a bright, intelligent, twelve year old little boy could be viewed as the ultimate enemy, whose death was to be rejoiced. How a struggle for freedom could be viewed as rebellion. How a tragedy could be viewed as a victory. How deaths of countless innocents, of children, could be celebrated with feasting and song.

Katara's hatred for the Fire Nation had never run quite so deeply as it did in that moment. She hated Sozin, hated Ozai, for their pride and their arrogance and their sense of superiority. She was glad that they were dead, and she cursed their spirits. It was due to them that this nation had become what it now was; it was their fault that her father and Aang and Toph and Bato and so many others had died. If she could, she would spit on into the urns that their ashes rested in.

A wave of nausea overwhelmed her at that moment, and Katara groaned as she retched into the bucket at her bedside and then sank back onto her bed, rubbing her belly in small little circles. "Don't listen to what these people say, Baby," she murmured tenderly. "Uncle Aang wasn't a bad person. He was just a child, and he was doing what was right. He was just trying to free all of us from the tyranny of this awful place. He was trying to help people like you and me have a better life…"

Katara stopped speaking suddenly, and her hands stilled over her abdomen. This child, this unborn baby that she already adored, was not truly one of the ones that Aang had attempted to save. This baby was the great-grandchild of Sozin, the grandchild of Ozai. Royal Fire Nation blood ran through its veins. Under different circumstances, this child would have one day ruled the Fire Nation. Whenever she cursed Sozin and Ozai, she was cursing her child's ancestors.

Katara swallowed hard, her mind suddenly blank. She had always simply thought of the child as her's, and had thought of its lineage merely through her side of the family. Never had she stopped to consider… Growing up in this land, her child would not identify with her or her people. Rather, it would identify with its father's people, with its Fire Nation ancestors. With the bastards who had started this Spirits Forsaken War.

She needed to leave. She needed to get out of the Fire Nation so that her baby would have some chance at living a normal life, should it survive through infancy and childhood. Furthermore, leaving would be the only way that her child's life would be spared, that it would have a chance at reaching adulthood. There must be a way… Zuko would simply have to understand… And in that moment, she realized that he never would. Zuko loved her, yes, but he loved her selfishly. He would never let her go, and no amount of reasoning, tears, or begging would ever change his mind.

"My Lady!" Kin's voice broke through Katara's reverie, and the girl groaned a little before acknowledging Kin's presence. "The Fire Lord is here to see you."

Katara sighed again and closed her eyes, as she wondered once again whether or not she should inform Zuko of the life growing within her. As his father, it was his right to know, but still, something kept Katara from telling him. Perhaps she was just trying to keep the child safe, limiting the knowledge of its existence to as few people as possible. But it was more than that, she knew. Something deeper, something that she herself didn't want to put into words: Zuko had promised and failed to protect Nozomi. And for some reason, that made her want to keep this baby a secret.

"Come in, Zuko!" Katara called, and despite her worries and dark mood she couldn't help but smile when Zuko swept into the room, that special look in his eye that was reserved for the times when they were alone. He bent down over the bed and lightly kissed her cheek before running his fingers through her mussed hair.

"Still in bed?" he asked with a small, tight smile, before taking a seat beside her. Katara nodded slightly, before letting out a slight yawn.

"Child of the moon, remember?" she replied, trying to banish her dark thoughts, and Zuko's smile widened a fraction.

"Oh, believe me, I remember. How could I forget?" he replied, closing the distance between them and kissing her. His lips were gentle at first, and then more insistent, one hand fisting in her hair while the other snaked it's way beneath her sleeping gown to trace the bare flesh or her torso and then lightly squeeze her breast. "You can't get enough of this at nighttime," he murmured, against the skin of her neck, his voice darker as he nipped the flesh there.

"Zuko," Katara gasped softly, drawing away from him. "I'm not really in the mood… today is… I don't…" she stuttered, thinking about Aang and Toph and the countless others who had died. An afternoon delight seemed wrong somehow, in the shadow of what had happened on this day a short year before.

But Zuko was lightly nipping at her earlobe, running his tongue over the skin and blowing gently, making her body tingle and her mind start to go hazy. "Please?" he asked softly, and Katara swallowed hard before shaking her head and drawing away.

Something in his eyes stopped her though, and she paused to study his features. His eyes were dark, hungry, as they usually were when they engaged in these sorts of activities. But there was something else there too: resignation, pain, sorrow. His brow was creased, his jaw hard like it always was when he was trying to keep his emotions in check. Come to think of it, he had this look on his face for several days now. Gently, she traced her fingertips along the line of his jaw, and Zuko closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. 'What's the matter, Zuko?" Katara asked softly, and his eyes flew open and met hers in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the wrist of the hand that was cupping his cheek. Katara merely continued to stare at him, and Zuko sighed. "It's just been a hard day, 'Tara," he replied softly. 'What with it being the anniversary, and… other things." The pain in his face intensified then, and just as quickly he had hardened his jaw and shaken his head. "But those things aren't important," he added, and Katara knew not to push him for information.

"What are you planning for the night?" she asked instead, and Zuko leaned his forehead against hers before sighing.

"A feast, the usual celebratory speech… The Fire Nation is the realm of gods on earth, nothing can destroy our spirit, the world will always succumb to the weight of our glory, etc. It'll be a harder speech than most of the other's I've had to make. I won't believe a word of this one," he replied, the hand beneath her sleeping gown lightly tracing patterns over her breasts. He then leaned down and nuzzled her neck, lightly kissing the skin there.

Katara threaded her fingers through his dark, thick hair and sighed softly. "So why don't you change it a little so that you do believe what you're saying? The peace treaties you signed were a step in the right direction. Go from there. Talk about how this day proves how strong you are, but don't make it a propaganda speech either. Use this as an opportunity to slowly introduce the concept of peace."

Zuko made a soft noise in the back of his throat, and then lightly kissed from her neck up along her jaw to her ear again. "That might be a good idea," he replied softly, before nibbling on the sensitive lobe. "I can think of better things to do right now though," he added.

Katara groaned a little, muttering under her breath how predictable he was. She could feel Zuko's chest rumble against her as he chuckled, and she sighed. In all honestly, she wasn't in much of a mood to let him kiss and fondle her, but at the same time, she could tell that he needed it. Whatever it was that he was keeping from her was weighing on him heavily and he needed a distraction. And by La, she needed a distraction too- a distraction from thoughts about the baby and Aang, and Toph and her father.

"Okay," she murmured, turning her face so that she could kiss him properly.

When it was over, she laid on her side with Zuko curled around her. She could still feel the tension in his arms, knew that while her body had provided a temporary distraction, he was still deeply troubled. "Tell me," she said quietly, and she felt him stiffen before he sighed and kissed her shoulder.

He was silent for a long time, and when he finally spoke, his voice was soft, defeated. "I'm getting married," he said dully, and Katara felt her stomach clench and her eyes fill with tears. "Governor Anzu approached me a few days ago with the marriage contract my father signed before his death and asked me to honor it. I need a Fire Lady, and Mai… she is a friend, and she has the capability to rule. So I signed the contract in my own name."

"Oh," Katara whispered softly, doing her best to hold herself together. "I understand," she whispered, and she did. Once upon a time, she could have been the Fire Lady- if the day of the black sun had ended differently, she would have been. But in this world, it was impossible for her to hold such a position. And Zuko was right; Mai was a good choice.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. That didn't mean that she didn't ache inside at the thought of Zuko touching another woman, of giving another woman children, of making another woman his wife. _Oh, Baby…_ she thought, repressing the urge to cradle her still flat stomach. _Will nothing go right for us in this world?_

"You have a speech to prepare, things to do. You should go," Katara murmured, and she squeezed her eyes tightly closed as Zuko kissed her cheek. She kept them closed and stayed curled on her side when she felt Zuko leave her bed and heard the rustle of his clothes as he got dressed. She still didn't move even as she heard him walking towards the door.

"Katara…" Zuko said softly, but the girl didn't turn her head. She heard him sigh, and knew that he was running his fingers through his hair in the way he did in moments like this. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and there was silence for several heartbeats before she heard his steps take him out of the room and the tell-tale sound of the door closing behind him.

Katara wept.

----------------

Zuko's mind was not on the court or his people or on the speech he was about to deliver. It was not on the fact that he was to announce his engagement to the girl standing beside him tonight. It was back in Katara's room, remembering how still and how silent she had laid after he'd informed her of his upcoming nuptials. Zuko winced and took another deep swig of sake, feeling Mai's eyes upon him as he did so.

And then a long, slim, pale hand was on his arm, and she had removed his glass from his hand. "If you are going to drink, Zuko, do it in the privacy of your own rooms. Do not showcase your weaknesses," she murmured softly, before quickly taking a sip of the drink, making it look as though they were sharing the glass rather than that she was attempting to curb his alcoholism.

"Just because you are going to be my wife doesn't mean you are allowed to tell me what I can and cannot do," Zuko snapped, and he winced again when he saw the flash of hurt in Mai's eyes before she swiftly covered it with indifference.

"Fine. Let the people think that you're an incompetent drunkard," the girl replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of the sake before turning and beginning to walk away from him.

"Wait," Zuko said softly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to him. "I apologize; I haven't had the best day and it was wrong of me to take it out on you. I know you're only trying to help me," he said, and he saw a glimmer of surprise pass across Mai's features. He watched as her eyes darted down to where his hand was clasped around her thin wrist, but he didn't let it go.

"I understand," Mai replied in a slow, measured, careful tone. "Being Fire Lord is no easy task."

Zuko nodded slowly, and then gently squeezed where he was holding her. "Either will being Fire Lady. Mai, I understand that the contract is signed, but… If you want a way out, if you don't want to do this, tell me now before I get out there and announce to this whole Agni-forsaken nation that I am going to take you to wife."

He could see Mai studying his features, and when she spoke her voice was slow and measured once more. "Why would I want a way out?" she asked, and Zuko looked her directly in the eyes.

"Because I am in love with someone else. I will _always_ be in love with someone else. I will never be the husband that you deserve to have; I will never be the proper companion for you. You will be lonely, if you marry me."

Zuko was surprised to see the acceptance and understanding that flooded Mai's features after he had spoken. "I know that, Zuko," she murmured softly. "I have always known that. And I will never begrudge you Katara's company; you may continue to visit her as you like after we are married. As for being lonely… well, I've always been lonely. And I do not expect you to love me. I can only hope that you will continue to view me as your friend."

Zuko stared at Mai in silence for several moments, and she met his gaze with her dark, dark eyes. "You are a remarkable woman, Mai," he said softly, and the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile. In a different world, he could have loved this girl, he knew. In a different world, she would have been exactly what he was looking for. "I will try to make you happy," he promised, and he raised her hand to his lips planted a kiss on it. Although her face remained impassive, the blush that stained her cheeks gave her away.

Mai cleared her throat, and Zuko noted with some amusement that her eyes were everywhere but on his. "You have a speech to make," she said, a little breathlessly, and he nodded and squeezed her hand before he walked away. Some part of him felt guilty, felt like he was being unfaithful. But he needed to make a start, to show the woman that would be his wife some measure of affection. Since he was incapable of loving the girl, the least he could do was to make the best of the situation, to make her feel comfortable. To be her friend.

Zuko took several deep breaths to clear his clouded mind, his head bowed, his eyes closed. Then, he stepped out onto the balcony where he could see the throngs of people gathered before the palace. When they saw him, they let out a loud cheer, chanting his title and waving their arms in the air. There was nothing like a festival to make the commoners love their king, Zuko thought wryly, and he raised his arms for silence. The masses soon fell quiet, the multitude of faces upturned as they awaited the sound of their leader's voice.

"This day marks the anniversary of the final glory in a hundred year struggle," Zuko began, and the throng let out a cheer. "Your men are returning home, conquerors, victors, worthy of praise and admiration. Our nation is a force to be reckoned with, and the rest of the world is at its knees before us." The cheering began again in earnest, and Zuko knew he was feeding into the nationalist propaganda that his father and grandfather before him had spread for years. If there was to be a difference in that thinking, he would have to follow Katara's suggestion and take the next step towards peace.

He raised his arms again, and once again the crowd fell silent. "But on this day, let us not forget the lives that were lost. Let us remember the brave souls who believed in their cause so deeply that they willingly left behind their loved ones and fought do the death for their Nation and ideals." He thought of Aang, of Toph, of the countless others who had died and prayed to Agni that somehow, someway, they heard him and knew that those words were meant for them.

"And in remembering those brave men and women, let us look at the world around us today and celebrate the anniversary of the end of this long and bloody war. And let us vow that no more blood will be spilt, that no more men will die. Let us live with the knowledge and pride of our glory, but extend our mighty hands out in peace to the lesser Nations. This is a new era, a new dawn."

The crowd was so silent that Zuko was sure that he could have heard a pin drop. The people were stunned, he was certain. Never in anyone's memory had a Fire Lord spoken the word peace, much less believed that it was a concept worth any merit.

Zuko took a deep breath, and extended his hand towards the open door behind him. Mai slipped out of the darkness and into the light, the sun dancing off of her gold jewelry and making her shine. She placed her hand in his, and Zuko pulled her forwards. "My father has passed on; the old sun has set. But the Lady Mai has agreed to be my bride; the new sun has risen. Together, your future Fire Lady and I will usher in this new era and rule with a fair and even hand!" Zuko raised their joined hands in the air, and the once shocked and silent crowd burst into cheers and applause at the sight and announcement of their future Fire Lady.

"Now go and make merry with your families, and enjoy this Agni-blessed occasion!" Zuko exclaimed, before turning away and walking back into the palace. Mai let go of his hand the moment the doors were shut behind them and the sound of the crowd's cheers muted, and for that Zuko was grateful.

Iroh was swiftly approaching them, and Mai quickly slid away, although Zuko did not see where the girl had gone. Iroh quirked a brow as he watched her go, chuckled, and then clapped a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "What an interesting speech, Nephew. I was afraid that the people would begin to throw tomatoes at you the second they heard the word 'peace' leave your lips." Zuko rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the slight twitch of his lips. "I am surprised that Katara did not slip into the room to hear that speech of yours. I assume she had a hand in it," Iroh said with a trace of mirth in his voice, and Zuko shrugged his shoulders.

"She wasn't feeling up to it," he replied, thinking of how still she had lain, how hard she had apparently taken the news of his upcoming nuptials.

"That time of the month, I suppose," Iroh replied with a little shrug of his shoulders before taking a delicate little sip of his tea.

"No, no, that's not it, Uncle," Zuko replied, and then he froze. And then he counted. How long had it been since Katara had last had her monthly? Not since… Not since Nozomi's death, Zuko realized with no small amount of horror.

"Zuko? What is it, Nephew? You've gotten rather pale. Is something wrong?"Iroh's hands were on his shoulders, and Zuko shrugged away from the man. Over two months. Two moontimes skipped. That meant she had to be… but she couldn't…

"General? What is the matter with the Fire Lord?" Mai's had appeared out of nowhere, and her generally flat voice was concerned, but Zuko heard it and noticed her presence only through a fog.

"I don't know; I merely made a comment, and then…" Iroh's voice trailed off, and then the elder man suddenly met Zuko's eyes. Gold eyes bore into gold, and Zuko realized that Iroh had suddenly come to the same realization that he had. "Oh, Zuko…" Iroh began, but he appeared to be at a loss of words.

"General?" Mai demanded, but Iroh didn't look away from Zuko's gaze. "Zuko?" The girl's long, slim fingers were suddenly wrapped tightly around Zuko's wrist, her pale face betraying her fear for once in her life. Zuko couldn't bring himself to care.

"I have to… I can't… I need to go," Zuko finally stammered out, and Iroh nodded slowly and squeezed his shoulder. The man's eyes were concerned, sympathetic, and slightly pitying. Zuko couldn't bear to look into them anymore so he turned away and broke himself free of Mai's grasp. If he'd bothered to turn around he would have seen how her hand limply fell to her side, would have seen the pain in her eyes. But he did not turn around. He ran.

* * *

Only one more chapter and an epilogue left to go everybody! I had planned on finishing this now, but the chapter was just getting to long. Besides, I felt like I've made all of you wait too long as it is. Please Review!


	22. Chapter 21

Mai slipped into Zuko's private chambers, somewhat surprised that the guards let her pass easily now that she had been announced to be the future Fire Lady. The candles were flickering dangerously, and Mai was suddenly taken back in time to when it was her oldest friend kneeling on the floor, her hair in disarray as the flames danced furiously with the girl's anger. She quickly pushed the memories away and locked them into the deepest recesses of her mind. It would do her no good to think of Azula, not now, and not ever.

"Zuko?" she called out softly, keeping her worry out of her voice. She remembered the look on Iroh's face, the white, blank, pained look that had shook her to her core. It had only taken moments after Zuko's departure for her to realize that Katara's condition had suddenly dawned on him. Her heart broke for his pain.

"Go away," came the angry, almost guttural response. A lesser woman would have been terrified by his tone, but Mai had grown up in the Fire Nation court. She had lived on the road with a half-crazed spoiled, tyrannical child for nearly a year. Zuko seemed to be nothing more than a little kitten in comparison. So she stepped forward and gingerly took a seat beside him on the edge of his bed. Zuko glanced up at her, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, and Mai repressed the urge to wince. "I said go away," he muttered, and Mai sighed.

She said nothing, just merely sat silently beside him. They remained like that for several moments, Zuko sitting hunched over, his hands clasped tightly, his shoulders shaking; Mai sitting as still and silent as a statue beside him, watching him with dark eyes that missed nothing.

Finally, Zuko pushed himself off the bed and paced around the room, pausing just long enough to send a glare her way. "I told you to leave. What are you still doing here?" he demanded, frustration and anger present in his tone.

"You need me," Mai replied softly, her tone even and measured. Some inner part of her cringed when he laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. For a single breathless moment, she was afraid that he would say something irrevocable, something that would hurt her far too deeply for her to hide. But he said nothing, merely shook his head again and resumed his pacing.

"I know, Zuko. About Katara." Mai paused for a moment, lacing her fingers together so that he wouldn't see her hands shaking. "I know."

"And you're here to tell me to convince her to abort the fetus, aren't you? To make sure that your child will never have a contender to the throne," Zuko snapped back instantly, and Mai's nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed.

"I am here because you need someone right now! If you would look beyond yourself for just a moment you would see that I do not need to be here. You would realize that you're not the only one who is in pain," she snapped back, losing her composure. It was a rare thing for her, to drop her complacent, impenetrable mask, and it made Zuko stop short. "I did my best to save your first child when we were betrothed. Do you honestly believe that I would be selfish enough to counsel you to rid yourself of your second one now?" Her face was flushed, her eyes alight with hurt and anger as she glared at her betrothed. When she noted the slack-jawed look on his face and read the surprise in his eyes, however, she remembered herself and quickly regained her composure.

"I-I apologize. Again. It seems like I'm always apologizing to you," Zuko said softly, and Mai closed her eyes for a brief moment as she sighed.

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly, and Zuko sighed harshly as he raked his fingers through his hair. It fell past his shoulders now, Mai noted. She hadn't realized it before because it had been held up in a perpetual top knot over the past several months. It was thick, shiny, and made him look more like Azula than he would ever want to know.

"I don't know," he murmured, and Mai's heart broke in the utter defeat at his tone. He crossed the room and sat beside her on his bed, his shoulders slumped, his head in his hands.

"The way I see it, you have three options. You can be happy about it, keep the pregnancy quiet for as long as possible and do your best to keep the child a secret after it's birth, or you can abort the fetus," Mai said softly, and Zuko glanced up at her.

"You said there were three options," he replied, and Mai slowly reached out her slim, pale hand and gently wrapped it around his large calloused one. Her stomach fluttered a little at the contact and she did her best to keep her hands from shaking; reminded herself that this was not a romantic interlude, but merely two friends sitting with one another in the midst of what could quite possibly be a tragedy.

"You already know the third," she said softly, and Zuko stared down at their joined hands in silence. "And in your heart, you know what you have to do," she murmured, and his jaw locked.

He was silent for a long time, and then, finally, he began to cry. Mai sat in shocked silence as the Fire Lord buried his head in his hands and wept beside her. She'd never possessed the callousness of Azula or the maternal instincts of Ty Lee; she had no idea what to do. After several long, awkward moments, she slowly wrapped her arms around him, her heart thudding in her chest. At first, he stiffened and she was terrified that she had done something wrong. But then he turned in her embrace and buried his head in the crook of her neck.

Mai gasped a little and her hands fluttered uselessly around his head before she remembered how she had held Tom-Tom and stroked his hair the time he had fallen and scraped his knee and their mother hadn't been present to comfort him. Swallowing hard, Mai mimicked her actions of that day. Gently, softly, she ran her fingers over Zuko's hair with one hand, and rubbed small circles over his back with the other. It seemed to work, because she could feel his body relax and mold against hers.

"I don't want to lose her, Mai," she heard Zuko murmur against the flesh of her neck, and her body shivered even as her heart broke. "I love her. I love her so much I… Everything I am, everything I've done, is because of her. How can I let her go? How?"

Mai thought for a moment, about everything that Zuko had put himself through for this girl's sake. When he would have rather died than betray the avatar, he agreed to be a spy for Azula in order to keep the girl safe. He had taken a bolt of lightning for her, had traded the freedom of the world for her life. When this man loved, he loved with everything he had. And while he had been accused of selfishness by many, Mai knew that the majority of his actions were selfless. He made decisions that he knew would hurt him time and time again in an attempt to keep those he loved safe. In Mai's eyes, that made him a hero. A confused and misguided one, to be sure, but a hero nonetheless.

"You have done so much to keep her safe. Do you really want all of your efforts to be in vain?" she asked quietly, and she could feel Zuko shake his head against her shoulder.

"Everything you are, everything you have done, has been in an effort to keep her safe, to make her happy," Mai took a breath and struggled for the words. "It will be because of how strong your love for her is that you will be able to let her go. It will be painful, Zuko, but doing what is right is almost always painful."

Zuko was silent for a very long time, his head resting on Mai's shoulder, her fingers continuing their soft, soothing motion through his hair. It was a thick silence, one weighted with responsibility and sorrow. "I will never see my child," he said at long last in a voice so soft that Mai barely heard him.

Mai's breath hitched at this, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him and rested her cheek against the top of his head. "I know its little consolation, but there will be others," she said softly, and Zuko was silent.

Mai knew what he wasn't saying. She knew that he would have loved the child that he sired with Katara more than any of the ones that she would surely bear in their future. She knew that no child of hers could ever replace the one that Katara would bear in the frozen wastelands of the South Pole. Neither she nor any of her children would ever fill the hole in Zuko's heart or equal Katara's memory.

She swallowed thickly and squeezed her eyes closed to prevent the flow of tears that seemed determine to force their way down her cheeks. She would find a way, she vowed to herself. She may never be the love of his life, he may never be Katara's equal, but she would find a way to be good enough.

At long last, Zuko shifted and drew away from her. The sudden loss of weight and warmth made Mai feel profoundly empty. "You should go now," Zuko said softly. "Your family will be looking for you, and I… I have something to attend to."

Mai bowed her head in obedience, and gracefully slid off the bed and onto her feet. When she made a move to walk to the door, however, Zuko grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. Mai did her best to smother her surprise at the action, and when she stared up at Zuko, there was a question in her eyes.

"Thank you," the man murmured softly, and then he bent to kiss her cheek. Mai felt her face flood with warmth, and she stared up at Zuko with wide, dark eyes. "You are very good to me. Far better than I deserve," Zuko added, and he gave her hand a kiss and a gentle squeeze before he turned away from her.

Mai stood motionless for several moments, shocked at the gestures of affection. She stared at his back as he crossed the room to withdraw a more casual robe from his wardrobe, her hand rising of its own accord to rest on the cheek that he had kissed. _I love you,_ she thought, but she swallowed the words. Instead, she ducked her head and swept out of his room.

One day, a day far off in the future, she would say those words to him. And when she did, he would say them back to her and he would mean them. But until that time came, she would keep them to herself, buried deep in her broken heart.

Zuko pushed open Katara's door slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to stop and draw in a deep breath to remind himself that he had already made his decision; that he was doing what was best for Katara. He swallowed hard, and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Katara was sitting beneath her window, one hand resting over the piece of embroidery on her lap and the other pressed against the surface of the glass. Her gaze was trained outside, up at the clear sky. She looked distant, as though caught up in the memories of a happier time.

Zuko shifted slightly, and that apparently alerted Katara to his presence. She turned quickly, her mouth hard and her jaw set. However, the moment her gaze settled on his form Katara's face softened.

"Zuko," she breathed, a smile on her face. It was sadder than it had once been, and was merely the ghost of the smile that had existed a year before, but she still looked genuinely happy to see him. Zuko was amazed, considering several hours before he had informed her of his marriage to Mai. She was too good, too wonderful, too forgiving to be trapped in this place for the rest of her life. Mai had been right. This was what he had to do. This was right.

He swallowed past the lump in throat, and moved forwards. "Katara," he greeted softly, and she frowned at the less than enthusiastic greeting.

"What's wrong?" she asked, rising to her feet in a fluid, graceful motion and gliding over to his side. "Did you have a hard day at court? Did the speech not go as you planned?" Zuko closed his eyes and resisted the urge to crush her in his arms and never let go. _I wish it was just that, Katara. But this is something that even you can't fix._

She placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently led him over to her couch. "Sit here; I'll have Kin bring you something," she said, and went to turn away.

Zuko grabbed her wrist before she could leave, and his mouth went dry at the question in her eyes. Silently, he tugged her down to sit beside him and took both of her hands onto his lap. Katara said nothing as he ran his fingertips across the lines of her palm, recalling what she had told him about the old fortuneteller she had visited years ago.

The woman had to have known that some great tragedy would befall the bright eyed, eager girl who had sat across from her that day. The face of the then innocent, naïve, fourteen year old must have made the woman's heart twist and ache knowing what was to one day befall her. And so the fortuneteller must have lied, or at least omitted certain things, in order to keep the girl happy for as long as humanly possible.

The time for her happiness had run out the moment Zuko had first succumbed to the impulse to kiss her.

The girl-turned woman now wrapped her hands around Zuko's own, and squeezed them gently with reassurance. Zuko squeezed back and closed his eyes. After all he had put her through, after all the grief that he and his family had caused her, the least he could do was to give her a chance at happiness once again.

Zuko raised their joined hands and brushed a gentle kiss across Katara's knuckles. "If there was one thing you wanted, Katara, one thing in the whole world, what would it be?" he asked, and lifted his gaze to that of the woman he loved.

He watched as Katara's eyes widened, heard her breath catch in her throat. She dropped her gaze from his, and her eyes skittered over to the window again. Zuko saw the desire in them, but it was not a desire for him or the life he could offer her. It was a longing for home, for family, for the stability that she had known as a child.

Zuko took in a shuddering breath, and closed his eyes. _Perhaps it is time to set this caged bird free._ He opened his eyes and squeezed the hands that he held so dearly. "Freedom," he said for her, and Katara turned back to him, her eyes wide and her lips parted in surprise.

"Zuko?" she breathed, and Zuko drew in another shaky breath.

"That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?" he asked softly, gently tucking a strand of brown hair behind Katara's ears. "That's why you left home to be with the avatar; that's why you resisted your feelings for me…" Zuko paused and took a deep breath. "And that is why you're going to leave me and return to your home."

Katara drew in a quick breath, and pulled her hands from his grasp. She placed a palm over her galloping heart, and touched her trembling fingertips of her other hand to her lips. "Zuko," she breathed, blue eyes beginning to fill. "You mean…You're actually going to let me…" she trailed off, and Zuko nodded slowly, his chest aching.

He ignored his pain, and leaned over to press his lips to her forehead. "You can go home, Katara. You can see Sokka and Suki and Gran-Gran again. You can even meet little Hakoda."

"When?" she asked breathlessly, looking a little shocked.

"There's a ship leaving tomorrow evening," he replied quietly. The moment after Mai had left his rooms he had immediately called for the scribes to bring him the nautical schedules. The ship that was leaving the following evening would be the last one to head to the Water Tribes for the next six months. This was the ship she would have to take. He would have to say all his goodbyes far sooner than he had anticipated.

At this a smile broke through her tears, a wide, bright smile that Zuko had thought that he would never see again. For a moment, she looked like the child Katara, with wide blue eyes that sparkled with hope of a future. Except now, that future no longer included him.

Suddenly, the smile dropped away and the familiar sadness returned to her features. "Oh, Zuko," she murmured, as though she finally realized exactly what his decision had cost him. Zuko stubbornly refused to meet her eyes, and his gaze settled somewhere on the floor. Suddenly, her warm hands were pressed on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her.

She didn't murmur the assurances that he wanted to hear; she didn't promise him forever, didn't say that home was where he was. She leaned close to him and gently brushed her lips across his, her hands sliding from his cheeks and her fingers curling in his thick, black hair. When they parted, she rested her forehead against his, and planted a chaste kiss upon his lips. "I will always, always love you," she breathed.

This time, Zuko didn't suppress the urge to weep. He allowed his tears to well to the surface and roll down his cheeks. Katara kissed them away as they fell, murmuring sweet nothings to him all the while. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, Zuko kissed her roughly, tasting the salt from his tears on her tongue.

Zuko couldn't find it within himself to be gentle as he untied the sash at her waist, pulled her robes from her shoulders, and pushed her down on the couch. He moved over her with a frenzied, desperate passion, the slick motion of skin across skin reminding him that for now, she was here. For tonight, he could continue to hold her, kiss her, touch her. He had tonight to let her know for the last time just how much he loved her.

When he was finally spent, Zuko lay on the pillow of her breasts, noting wearily that they had swelled some even in the early stages of her pregnancy. Her body was slick with cooling sweat, and Zuko gently ran a finger down through the moisture, and then rested his hand upon her belly. He felt Katara go stiff and rigid under the innocent touch, and he rubbed slow circles over the child that he would never know, but would always love.

He removed his hand and planted a kiss where it had been, before lifting his eyes to Katara's. For a moment she looked panic stricken at having been discovered, but then she drew her lip between her teeth and a profound sadness settled over her features. Her eyes filled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Zuko quickly silenced her with a tired kiss.

"You don't have to say anything, Katara," he murmured softly. He pressed his lips to the skin of her neck and tasted the salt there. "You don't have to stay," he added, although every fiber of his being demanded that he beg her to do just that.

"You will be better off in the South Pole," he continued, and he could feel the weight of Katara's gaze. "You'll be free to do what you want there… It's quiet, safe…a good place for you to raise a family." He swallowed hard, and then grazed his lips across her collar bone.

Katara's eyes filled, and she ran a hand through Zuko's damp hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and then wrapped her arms and legs around the man's form. "I'm so sorry!"

Zuko shook his head, and managed to push himself into a sitting position, cradling Katara in his lap. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

He had been angry with her for the first few moments that he had realized that she hadn't told him about his unborn child. But then the realization had set in as to why she would have wanted to keep it a secret, and he understood.

"But I…"

Zuko rubbed small circles over Katara's shuddering back to soothe her, and then he pressed his lips to the spot directly behind her ear. "There is nothing to be sorry for," he repeated, a little more forcefully. He allowed his hands to drift down so that they were pressed gently across her faintly rounded belly, and he brushed his thumb across her navel. "We won't speak of it again," he promised, before he gently withdrew his hands.

Katara swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, and took in a deep, shaky breath. "Oh, Zuko," she whispered, sorrow and gratitude evident in her voice. She gently pressed her fingertips to his cheek, before she nodded slowly.

She sniffled, wiped at her eyes, and then slid out of his lap to stand in front of him. "Come on, Zuko," she said softly, extending her hand. "Let's go to bed."

Zuko followed her willingly, slipping beneath cool, slippery silk sheets and enfolding Katara in his embrace. The water bender's lips drifted from his mouth, down the column of his neck, over the smooth planes of his chest, and down lower and lower still. This time it was she who moved above him, her thighs warm and soft against the sharp contours of his hips. Her hair hung about his face like a dark cloud, her small hands digging into the muscled flesh of his shoulders.

This was her way of telling him goodbye, her promise that he would forever hold a place in her heart. Even when they had finished and she lay snuggled against his chest, Zuko could still feel her touch, her warmth. But most of all, he could still feel the intensity of her love.

He only wished that it could have been enough.

Katara stood at the docks, a shawl around her shoulders, a rock in her gut. Kin had started talking about all that needed to be done the moment after Katara had informed her that she was leaving for home, and the woman had scolded and the two sobbing younger serving maids who had cried all the time that they were packing Katara's things. At first, Katara hadn't wanted to bring anything with her; what good would silks and jewels be in the South Pole? But then she remembered that they were all gifts from Zuko, and remembering Zuko made her heart ache. Packing had been a good distraction from the pain.

She still couldn't believe that Zuko was letting her go. All along, he had done everything in his power to keep her at his side, regardless of her wishes. But now… now that he knew about their child, he was allowing her to return home with full knowledge that he would never see her again. It was incredibly selfless of him, and it made her love him all the more.

Katara swallowed hard and looked around her, taking in the Fire Nation one last time. High above her, she could see the walls of the royal city and the spires of the palace beyond them. Around her, the docks teemed and thrived with life as deckhands prepared ships and merchants helped to load their goods onto the steel vessels. It was a beautiful country, Katara had to admit, but its beauty hid a great darkness, a darkness that she did not want her baby to be born into. Katara swallowed hard, and her gaze settled on the people who had come to see her off.

Kin stood a few paces away, square shouldered although she was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. She was flanked by the teary eyed Jia and Lian, who were noisily blowing their noses as they grasped each other's hands. Jee stood at attention, watching his former charge with something like sympathy in his eyes. Beside him stood Iroh, who didn't bother to hide his sorrow at losing his favorite niece. Zuko and Mai stood a little ways back, and although she was grateful, their presence tore at Katara's heart. She quickly turned her head away from them and focused her attention on her ladies maids.

Kin stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Goodbye, My Lady," the woman said tearfully. She then sniffed, pulled herself away, and dabbed at her eyes. "I packed your brushes in the small bag as well as a kit for your nails and a bar of soap. Remember to keep yourself well groomed," she said. Katara laughed softly and kissed the older woman's cheek, remembering how Kin had cared for her when she had been lifeless, how she had been loyal to her through everything that had occurred over the past year.

"I'll miss you too, Kin," she replied softly, squeezing the woman's hands. Jia and Lian came forwards and wrapped their arms around Katara, crying and talking over each other about how much they were going to miss her. Kin scolded them again, reminding them to start acting more distinguished and less like children. The familiar exchange made Katara smile, and she kissed all three of the women's cheeks before turning to Jee.

"Remind that grunt that's accompanying you that he'll get a personal beating from me if he doesn't get you there safely," Jee said, casting a meaningful look over her shoulder at Ryu. The younger of the two guards had volunteered to escort her to the South Pole, and for that Katara was grateful. Out of the corner of her eye, Katara saw Ryu make a rude gesture in response, and Jee chuckled.

"I've never played guard dog before, and I never thought that I would enjoy it quite as much as I did. It was a pleasure serving you, my dear," Jee continued, giving Katara a bow that was deeper than protocol called for.

"It was a pleasure knowing you, Lieutenant. I'm sure the Fire Lord has great things planned for you, now that you are through playing guard dog," she replied with a soft smile. Jee bowed again, and Katara threw her arms around him before she considering what was considered culturally appropriate. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, and she could feel the man's cheek lift into a smile before he gave her a slight hug in return and set her away from him.

Slowly, she turned to Iroh. "Uncle," she murmured softly, the tears falling down her cheeks for the first time that day as she rushed into the old man's arms.

"I will miss you, my little Sparrow," Iroh said softly, enfolding Katara in a warm hug. Katara sniffled as she wrapped her arms tighter around his ample girth and shuddered a little when he kissed her cheek. This man had been a father to her, had held her, counseled her, and sheltered her over the course of the past two years. He had been a parent to the entire group, had taught her so many things… life wouldn't be the same without him.

"I'll miss you too," she choked out through a tight, constricted throat, and Iroh squeezed her closer to him before patting her shoulder and letting her go.

"Here, I brought a gift for you," Iroh said, and handed her an ornate tea pot. "This isn't the true present though. The real gift is what is inside," he added, and Katara raised a brow before lifting the lid. The entire inside of the tea pot was filled with dried tea leaves. Katara glanced back up at Iroh, and couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up through her tears.

"Tea is on your mind until the very end," she said softly with a shake of her head, and Iroh grinned as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't let you or your brother and that poor wife and son of his freeze in the South Pole without good tea to warm them," he said in explanation, and Katara shook her head in amusement before wrapping her arms around him again.

"I will come to visit you whenever I can," Iroh whispered into her ear, and Katara drew back, stunned. Iroh grinned and chucked her chin. "I promise."

"Thank you," Katara breathed, her eyes filling. Iroh smiled at her gently before lightly pushing her in the direction of the Fire Lord and his fiancé.

Katara looked between Iroh and the pair before swallowing and stepping forwards, extending her hand to Mai. The older girl looked down at her with a look of indifference on her face, but stepped forwards away from Zuko when Katara beckoned him. Katara swallowed hard as she stared at Mai's features, and reached forward and grasped the girl's pale, thin hands when it became clear that the future Fire Lady would not do so herself.

"He's going to need a lot of looking after," Katara said softly, quietly enough so that Zuko wouldn't be able to hear her. At this, the frozen look on Mai's face thawed a little, and her features softened just enough so that Katara felt comfortable talking to her.

"I know," the girl replied, a touch of amusement in her otherwise flat voice.

"Take care of him for me?" Katara asked softly. "He drinks a lot, and gets into these awful dark moods… He needs someone who will bring him back to himself. Someone who will love him regardless of what he does. I know you love him already. Please, continue to do so, no matter what he might say or how he might act. He needs you."

As she had been speaking, Katara had noted that Mai's stony façade had continued to thaw, and now the girl who looked at her seemed human. "I promise," the girl replied, and this time there was genuine warmth and sincerity in her voice. Katara smiled and squeezed Mai's hands before glancing over the girl's shoulder at Zuko.

Mai followed her gaze, and then turned to where Iroh was conversing with Jee. "I need to speak with Uncle about something. If you'll excuse me," she said, and when Katara smiled at her gratefully she swept away.

Katara took in a shuddering breath and stepped forward so that she and Zuko were close enough to converse privately, but not nearly as close as she wanted to be. The mood of the docks had shifted in those moments, and Katara knew that all eyes were now on her and Zuko – the Fire Lord and his Water Tribe mistress. She swallowed hard, and met Zuko's eyes, and in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away.

They didn't whisper sweet nothings to each other, didn't speak at all. They merely stood, eyes locked, hearts thudding in their chests. Finally, Katara was the one to break the silence. "Zuko," she whispered softly, and his gold eyes flickered at the sound of his name. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Zuko replied, and Katara licked her lips and glanced over to where Mai and Iroh were conversing. The girl's eyes slid in Katara's direction, and when the pair met each other's eyes, Mai instantly looked back at Iroh. Katara turned back to Zuko, where she found those warm, beautiful eyes of his watching her with a desperate intensity.

"Promise me that you will love Mai as you have loved me; that you will love her children like you would have loved mine." She saw the pain fill his features, and resisted the urge to reach forward and caress his cheek.

"I can't," Zuko choked out. "Katara, I will never love anyone the way I love you."

"Zuko…"

"I can't!" Zuko exclaimed hoarsely, and Katara sighed softly.

"Will you at least promise me that you'll try?" she asked, and Zuko stared at her for several moments, a muscle in his jaw ticking, his hands shaking at his sides. Finally, he dropped his head and nodded. Katara knew what the promise had cost him, and she swallowed hard. "Thank you," she whispered, and she saw Zuko step close to her, raising his arms as if to embrace her.

Katara immediately took a step back, glancing around the docks and at the people who were openly staring at their Fire Lord. For a moment, Zuko looked hurt before he realized the same thing she had, and that she had stepped away from him in order to salvage what was left of his reputation.

"The avatar is somewhere in the Poles," Zuko said softly after several moments of silence, and Katara nodded. "You should teach him, when he comes of age."

"I would like that," she said in response, and at that moment the captain of the ship hollered that it was time to go. "I guess I should…" she began, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Zuko's eyes boring into her. She wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around him and bury her head in the crook of his neck, but she knew better. She clenched her hands into fists at her side instead, and swallowed hard.

"I love you, Zuko," she whispered softly, and Zuko nodded. She could see her struggle mirrored in his eyes, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"I love you too, 'Tara," he replied softly, and Katara stared at him for several long moments. She could not say goodbye, could not bring herself to say anything quite so permanent. So she gave him a small, watery smile, telling him with her eyes all that was in her heart before she turned and walked up the plank to the ship, leaving the man she loved behind her.

Zuko remembered standing in the frigid air of the South Pole, seeing a dark skinned little girl with eyes the color of the bluest sky glaring at him as she stood by the avatar. He remembered tying that same girl against a tree and taunting her with her mother's necklace, remembered the fire in her eyes as they dueled in the Spirit Oasis. He remembered her tears as she talked about her mother in the caves beneath Ba Seng Se, the betrayal in her eyes as he stood beside his sister.

He remembered how she had cursed at him threw a vase at his head when Azula had locked her in the private quarters of the ship, remembered the surprise in her eyes when he had tenderly washed the wounds on her wrists. He remembered how she had selflessly taken care of all the Kyoshi warriors, how she had fit into his arms as the town above them was being raided. He remembered kissing her for the first time in front of the fire, remembered how tender her hands had been as she was healing him from the wounds he had sustained while taking the bolt of lightning for her.

He remembered her standing on the deck of a Fire Nation ship, a Fire Nation child in her arms, looking scared and sweet and all together too wonderful to be true. He remembered the embarrassment in her eyes and the color in her cheeks on their wedding night, the horror that filled them two short days later when the avatar fell dead by his hand. The emptiness that had followed, and then the hatred, and later, the forgiveness and the love.

All this flashed through his mind as he stared at her standing at the rail of a Fire Nation ship destined for her homeland, her dark curls blowing wildly in the wind. His mouth went dry, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest, although he wasn't sure how a broken heart could continue to function.

The ship lifted anchor and began to pull away, taking with it all of his dreams for his future. As though she could feel him staring at her, Katara turned her head and blue eyes met gold for the very last time. He held her gaze until her shape became indistinct, and then so far away that he could no longer see her. Even then, he kept his eyes trained on ever-shrinking ship until it was no longer visible.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand grasp his own, could feel Mai standing shoulder to shoulder with him. Slowly, softly, he squeezed her hand in return, but kept his eyes trained on the horizon.

THE END


	23. Epilogue

"_And so, my darling, this is where my story comes to an end. Now you see why I told you the legend of Varedha, for Zuko and I were so similar to the nightingale and the rose. Like the nightingale, he did not fully realize the consequences of our actions, yet he loved me all the same. And like the rose, I knew what would happen, but in the end…in the end I was not able to deny my heart. _

"_And like the nightingale and the rose, our love was not condoned by our world. We bled for it, our daughter died for it; despite our sacrifices, it ended all the same. But from our love, something beautiful was created: you. You are the creature the world was never meant to see: the son of a Waterbending Prodigy and the Fire Lord. _

"_And you are far more beautiful to me than any red rose."_

Pakak read the closing lines of his mother's letter, tears filling his eyes and rolling down his craggy face. All of his life, he had wondered about his origins, praying to the spirits that he had not been the product of rape and hatred. Now he knew the truth; understood the pain that had lurked behind his mother's blue eyes for as long as he could remember.

The man wiped the tears away quickly with a slender, albeit calloused hand. He then took a deep, shaking breath as he summoned the courage to look back down at the letter his mother had written to him on her death bed.

"_I apologize that I couldn't bring myself to tell you sooner; I'm sorry that I can't be by your side right now as you learn of your history. But darling, you must understand. A woman's heart is full of secrets, many of which are too painful for even she herself to examine. _

"_My time with your father was at once the most wonderful and most terrible period in my life. Never before or since have I felt more terrified…or more loved."_

Pakak took a deep breath and swallowed before reaching into the pouch at his side and touching the pendant that rested within. It had been his mothers until her death several days before. In fact, Pakak couldn't remember a time when she hadn't worn it.

It was made of heavy gold, and in it was set a sapphire of such quality and radiance that Pakak had often wondered how she had come by such a priceless treasure. He ran a calloused thumb over the carving that had been etched into the back: a symbol of fire and water mingling as one. Zuko had given this to her, Pakak now realized. Zuko had given it to her and now she had entrusted it to him.

He would give it to his daughter, he decided. The girl had just birthed her first child only moments before her grandmother had died, and Pakak knew that owning something that Katara had treasured would mean the world to her.

His mother's canoe had been sent out to sea several days before, and the flames had long since consumed her body. Yet still, she had found a way to leave a piece of herself behind.

Pakak sighed and withdrew his hand from his pouch before reading the last words his mother had ever penned.

"_Zuko has long since passed on and I suppose that it is finally the time for me to join him. If the spirits are kind, your father and I will meet again in another lifetime, and in that time…perhaps we will be granted the chance to love again."_

A black haired boy stands in the marketplace, awkwardly balancing a basket of groceries as he reaches out a hand in greeting. "I'm Lee," he introduces himself, a flush rising to his cheeks.

"Kaya," replies a girl with vibrant blue eyes and a depth to her spirit that rivals even that of the ocean. She firmly grasps his outstretched hand within her own, and gives him the brightest smile that he has ever seen. "It's nice to meet you."

No one takes notice of these two children, barefoot peasants as they are. They were born and will die in obscurity; history will never even realize that they existed. But they will be free to love as they choose; they will dream a castle in the sky and build it with their own two hands.

They will never have to worry about war, or intrigue; will never have to feel the pain that their souls had endured in their past lives. No. At long last, they will happy with one another, and they will be at peace.

"Do you…uh… want to get some tea somewhere?" The boy asks, shifting the dirt beneath him with his big toe. "I know this great place…" he continues, the flush on his cheeks darkening even further.

"Sounds great!" The girl replies, a wide smile stretching across flushed features.

And so it begins…again.


	24. Author's Note

I began this story as a gift for my sister. She had become somewhat obsessed with the Zutara pairing, and since I didn't see the show going that way, I decided to write a story that had the ending the way she wanted. For a time, this is exactly what I did. I wrote a light hearted, cute story about a boy and a girl who slowly fell in love.

Mid-way through Eclipse, however, everything changed. A friend of mine lost her daughter in a tragic accident and turned to me for comfort. Writing suddenly became my outlet for all of those emotions, and I stopped thinking about what my sister would want and instead began writing from my heart. Pretty soon, more and more of my thoughts and ideas came out. Eclipse and Varedha became a tale of war, of love and loss and impossible decisions.

I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me over the past three years that I've written this. This has definitely been a roller coaster, and many of you have been on this ride with me since the beginning. You are the most amazing, not to mention the most patient, fans that any girl could ask for.

I will not be writing a full third installment to this series. However, I am toying with the idea of writing a series of one shots/ drabbles that talk about what happens in the future. For example, I might write a snippet about Katara teaching the next avatar, or Pakak's thoughts on his father, what Katara's arrival home was like, how Zuko and Mai's marriage turns out, etc. This one-shot series will most likely not be updated incredibly regularly, and will never evolve beyond one-shots/drabbles. If I do decide to write it, it will be under the title of 'The Paths We Chose.'

Again, thank you everyone for your support.


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